


Old Love

by yanak324



Category: The Originals (TV), Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Forgiveness, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324/pseuds/yanak324
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was wrong. This isn't a last love, it is an old love, one deep rooted in centuries, an unshakeable bond that entwines them in each others' lives whether they want to or not. Her only mistake was not realizing this decades earlier. Caroline/Klaus Post TVD 4.24. Post TO 1.01.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. February 2014

**Author's Note:**

> It figures that the couple that would pull me out of the woodwork will likely not even share screen time in the near future. After the S4 TVD finale aired, I made my peace but this idea wouldn’t leave me. Ergo this one shot is now actually a six-parter! I love these two characters separately and together though, which is rare and exciting so I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also thank you to my wonderful beta, Cathy. You are simply the best!

xxx  


_“Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold.”  
-Andre Maurois (French Author)_

xxx

_**February 2014** _

**New Orleans**

The crib is beautiful. It stands on four elegant legs of rich mahogany that fan into an equally elegant body. If she inhales deeply enough, she can detect the faint traces of varnish paint that linger in the air.  


It stands at an angle, close enough to the window but just out of reach of the sunlight, a necessary precaution that chips at her heart a little. It’s a stark reminder of why she’s here and what she’d learned only a mere few hours ago. 

But she’s not going to think about that now, especially how much it hurts to be kept in the dark like this. When she finally lets herself look at him, fully take him in, her heart clenches for an entirely different reason. 

It’s been nearly a year since she has last seen him, since he planted the softest of kisses on her cheek, professed his love to her, and walked her home as if it were nothing. 

Yet it feels like no time has passed at all. 

So much has happened since then, so much loss, so much change. At first, getting Elijah’s call felt like a blessing in disguise, a reprieve granted by the universe to let her escape Mystic Falls and all the pain she had endured over the last eight months. Yet looking at the obviously broken man in front of her, body hunched over a crib that will never be used, she knows the pain he has suffered is incomparable.  


And somehow it lessens the feeling of betrayal, because he’s already paying his penance a thousand fold. 

She also knows she will eventually forgive him, because that’s what you do for the people in your inner circle, which despite her better judgment, includes him. 

“You came,” his murmur reverberates through the room, cutting through her thoughts, and she takes a step towards him.

Sensing his need for space, she perches herself on the bench beside him as close to the edge as possible. 

“It’s beautiful work.” She comments for lack of anything to say, insecurity seeping in at her inability to help him. 

He leans away from the crib at that moment, as if sensing her thoughts; and then he’s finally looking at her. As usual she can’t help herself, eyes flickering to his as if on cue, breath now involuntarily hitching, because even now, where her feelings and desires have no place, he still manages to stir something within her. 

Except, unlike every other time before, he just stares at her as if he sees right through her, dark eyes somehow darker but also duller, missing their usual mischievous glint, their depth…their magnetic pull that has always somehow managed to reel her in. 

Her heart clenches painfully at the sight of him so disheveled, so exposed and so nonchalant about it. Even when he was under Silas’ control, he still used rage and violence as a shield, now he just doesn’t seem to care about anything and the realization chills her bones. 

So she does the only thing that makes sense and closes the proximity between them, pulling him into a hug. 

It’s not a long emotional embrace but it’s enough for her to feel a hint of relief, to gather her wits about her, and fully assess the state he’s in. 

She pulls back and she’s determined again, channeling the inner resolve she thinks will someday be legendary (if she lives to even a decade, let alone a century).

“I’m sorry about what happened.” 

The first signs of some emotion appear on his face but it leaves her feeling more unsettled than anything; his lips curve into a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes at all. 

“I appreciate that, love but that’s what I get for trusting a witch.” 

His mood swings are legendary but this 180 leaves her with a bad case of whiplash; his earlier vulnerability is now masked by a cold indifference that’s just teetering on the edge of rage. As much as it unnerves her, at least this is confirmation that he hasn’t turned off his humanity; she can’t even comprehend what _that_ Klaus would look like.

The relief is short lived as she realizes that he’s staring more intently at her now, likely using his study of her as a distraction for the turmoil he feels inside. She doesn’t mind it, not really, but heavy silences remind her that less than six hours ago she had absolutely no clue that Klaus was going to be a father, a father to a child he would share with _her_. 

Caroline wills herself not to think about it, because regardless of her personal feelings toward Hayley, immortal or not, one should not envy or hate the dead. 

“It’s not your fault.” She refocuses on him instead. 

“Don’t.” He warns quietly but effectively. She is aware that any empty words of comfort will likely send him over the edge, and he desperately doesn’t want to go there, especially not with her present. 

This revelation gives her a sense of comfort. Knowledge that he still wants to protect her, even if it’s from himself, prompts her to a retreat. Caroline nods silently, peering down at the sliver of space between them, realizing for the first time just how close they’re sitting next to each other.

Klaus must realize this too as he glances more intently at her, a wan smile exposing his dimples, but just barely. Another stretch of silence follows and she’s lulled into a false sense of content when he speaks, jolting her yet again with his soft inquiry.

“How’s university treating you?” 

She makes eye contact, blinks, a war of emotions stirring inside her as she tries to gauge whether he’s fooling her again or whether he truly doesn’t know, doesn’t know that Bonnie is dead, that Stefan is missing and that Tyler never came back home.

Looking closer, it's apparent that he in fact does not to know anything, which means he hasn’t been keeping tabs on her. 

Somehow that stings. 

“I deferred Cambridge for a year.” She replies somewhat coolly, revels in the surprise that flickers in his eyes. 

He hadn’t thought she’d have it in her to leave Mystic Falls…well she did or at least she’d had the intention until everything went to hell. 

“Still can’t leave that little town behind, can you?” His mocking reply, though familiar, signals that he truly doesn’t know her reasons for staying so she doesn’t take the bait. 

“Not exactly,” she mutters back, bitterness lacing her voice irrespective of her attempt at nonchalance. 

Caroline looks away from him, not wanting to confront either the pity or guilt he might feel if he figures out that something happened. Either emotion would feel awful coming from him. What she doesn’t anticipate however is the warmth of his hand as it settles unexpectedly on top of hers.

“Caroline, what-…”

“Don’t,” she hisses, throwing his own words at him as she meets his eyes sharply, letting him know that he has no right to give her comfort yet. 

He gets it and doesn’t fight her. Instead he quickly removes himself from the bench they’re sitting on in favor of the liquor cabinet, taking the warmth of his touch with him. 

“Well then it appears as though we have reached an impasse, sweetheart.” He speaks slowly, deliberately as he pours blood from a crystal decanter into two identical glasses. The smell is intoxicating, reminding her that she hasn’t fed in far too long and she begrudgingly accepts the glass as he comes back to hand it to her. 

“Neither one of us wants to discuss the happenings of the last eight months, so whatever shall we do to pass the time?” 

His voice is borderline wicked, flirtatious and paired with his smirk, it’s almost easy to forget why she’s here and what has happened. Perhaps that is his aim and she can’t really blame him.

“If I recall correctly, this is one of your favorite cities, full of art, music, and culture,” she takes a tentative step towards him, hoping he won’t take negatively to her reference of his voice mail all those months ago. 

(It’s perfectly acceptable that she has it memorized, really it is)

“So maybe you can finally show me.” She doesn’t realize she whispers the last part until it's too late already and she holds an unnecessary breath waiting for his unreadable expression to change, to at least _hint_ at how he’s feeling. 

And as he smiles, no _grins_ at her over the rim of his glass, her heart finally cracks. 

“As the lady wishes.” 

xxx

Much later, curled up in front of the fireplace with a glass of bourbon in her hand and Klaus next to her, Caroline allows herself to briefly reflect on the day. 

New Orleans is indeed a beautiful city and even with this uncertainty wedged between them, today was one of those rare instances when they have been able to truly enjoy each other’s company without the outside world infringing. 

“I had a great time today,” she says softly, feeling the need to convey her gratitude, “thank you for playing tour guide.” 

The smile he gives her is genuine, if a bit sad. 

“You’re welcome, love.” He murmurs back, not looking away even though she expects him to. 

“It’s all I really ever wanted to do,” he adds knowingly, holding her gaze for a beat too long. 

Caroline has to look away, because his words sound almost like an apology (almost) and she can’t forgive him just yet; the wound is still too fresh, the betrayal still stings.  
And now it’s back in full force.

From the corner of her eye, she sees his expression harden at her lack of a reply but she doesn’t say anything, wants to neither placate nor fight him. A sense of urgency cuts through her and she drains the rest of her glass. 

It’s time for her to leave. After all, when Elijah called her, he had asked her for a simple favor.

_“If you could get him to say at least a few words, Caroline. Please, my brother has barely left his room in weeks.”_

And she accomplished that task; hell she even got him to spend the day outside. If he hasn’t turned his humanity off now, he will probably not do it any time in the future. 

He will be just fine, he somehow always is. 

_“We are the same, you and I.”_

She doesn’t want to believe it but he was right. They are the same and they’re both survivors; and now it's time for her to go home and learn to _survive_ again. 

“I should go.” She announces, pushing herself off the couch to stand in front of him, but it doesn’t seem like he has noticed.

“What is it?” He questions softly instead, and the knot beneath her ribs tightens at the sight of tears in his eyes, “what is it about me that makes me so unworthy of family?”

In any other circumstance, _any other_ , she would suggest that if he wants to have a family, he shouldn’t try to dagger his siblings whenever he disagrees with them. However, when Klaus looks at her, all Caroline wants to do is reassure him that he is, in fact, worthy of family…and so much more. 

“Look, I know what happened is awful,” he tries to turn away, but she squeezes herself in between him and the arm of the couch, “and I know you blame yourself and that you think this was your last chance at having a real family, but that’s just not true.” 

He audibly scoffs at her, but she doesn’t let it deter her, instead Caroline forcibly tugs on his forearm to get him to look at her, “you have Elijah and Rebekah, they are your family and I’m-…” 

She freezes, fully aware that her impulsivity has gotten the best of her yet again. However, this time, she doesn’t hide, figuring that in this case, she can be vulnerable with him, especially if it helps her get her point across. 

“I am around.” She admits, but doesn’t wait for him to counter her thoughts or argue, “so you have to promise me something.” 

He still hasn’t looked at her, just stares blankly into the fire, body so motionless, he reminds her of the statues they saw in one of the art galleries they visited today. 

Another tug on his arm doesn’t work, so Caroline leans forward, gently cradling his cheek in her palm. It forces him to look at her and she runs her thumb delicately across his stubbled jaw. 

The effect this has on her is dizzying but she shoves it aside. 

“Promise me you will not turn it off.” 

She searches his face, for any sign that she’s gotten through to him, even a little bit. Seconds seem to stretch like hours between them and the fire crackling in the background only further underscores her determination. 

Minutes go by without him saying anything but Caroline doesn’t waver, not when so much is at stake. Then, unexpectedly, she feels his fingers wrap around her wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze before withdrawing.

“I promise.” Klaus acquiesces a moment later and the smile spreads on her lips unconsciously. He looks at her with such adoration, she can’t help the heat rising to her cheeks and for a moment, it all feels so normal, so _them_ , tears rush to her eyes. 

Whether from grief or from relief, she does not know but Klaus doesn’t give her a chance to find out. 

“Now go,” He urges her unexpectedly, “go fix whatever you need to in that supernaturally crippled town of yours and then for heaven’s sake, go out and see the world.” 

The way he says this so passionately, almost as if he’s imploring her, fills her with a strength Caroline didn’t know she needed. It also serves as a reminder that regardless of what has happened, she still deserves to experience all the trappings of immortality, travel included. 

“You owe it to yourself.” He adds gently and she realizes just how much he truly wants this for her …even if it’s not with him. 

“I’ll send you postcards.” She suggests with a small smile, trying to infuse the moment with much needed levity. 

“No need, sweetheart. I am certain I can paint any city you visit from memory.” He teases right back, smile wider than she’s seen it all day. 

“Not fair.” She shoots back, “you have like a thousand years on me.” 

“Better catch up then, love.” He winks at her and she doesn’t even realize how relaxed she is or how much she has missed their banter until this very moment. 

And that’s probably why she should leave…leave before it's too hard. She hesitates for a moment, suspended in indecision and Klaus seems to sense this as his smile is replaced with a frown.

“You need to go now. It’s not safe for you here.” He declares and a part of her wonders if this is just his way of making it easier for her to leave. She knows there is a grain of truth in his warning. There is a war brewing and with her history, she’s likely to get caught in the crossfire if she stays. 

“I already took a risk showing you around the city today. If Marcel catches wind of you being here…” 

She can’t help the chill that settles in the pit of her stomach, so she nods and stands without a fight. A part of her, however, can’t leave without warning him all the same. 

“Be careful, Klaus.” 

He fixes her with an artificial smile. 

“Don’t worry about me, love. I cannot be killed, remember?” 

Somehow that doesn’t make her feel any better. She takes her leave and she’s almost at the doorway, when she hears him. 

“Thank you, Caroline.” 

At that she has to turn around, catching his searching gaze as he fixes it on her from his place by the fireplace. He looks so lonely standing there illuminated by the red and orange flames that she can’t help but worry for him. A feeling of foreboding settles within her and she bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from voicing her concerns. 

She’s done all that she can. The rest is up to him. 

“You’re welcome. Now look out for my postcards and try not to get jealous, okay?” 

“I’ll try, love.” 

And when he raises his glass at her, matching her smile with one of his own, Caroline instinctively knows that this won’t be the last time she will see him.  



	2. September 2039

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kiss me.” 
> 
> This time she is prepared for the flash of surprise in his eyes but not quite so for the subsequent burst of heat in her belly. 
> 
> With a flirtatious smile, she leans forward. 
> 
> “What’s the matter? Is the Big Bad Wolf afraid of little Red Riding Hood?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been truly amazing with your feedback for the first chapter! I only hope I can continue to inspire similar interest for the rest of the story. Thank you to my beta, Cathy, for being so quick, efficient, and understanding of my ramblings. So far, this has been my favorite chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I loved writing it!

xxx 

_“Тhere isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. Тhe stupider, the better.”  
\- Richelle Mead (American author)_

xxx 

**_September 2039_ **

**Berlin**

She sits at her kitchen table, a half empty bottle of cheap wine at her right and her phone to her left. 

A part of her has always known that this day would come and that it wouldn’t be at all what she’d hoped but rather everything she’d feared. All day she has felt strange, waking up with a sinking feeling that she couldn’t quite shake. 

Now she knows what that was and can't help but think that Stefan was entirely right about her vampirism. Perhaps a part of her immortality had amplified some of the more unsavory parts of her human personality, but with that came the added self-awareness and emotional intelligence she has now learned to trust. 

That can be the only explanation for how unsettled she has felt all day. Her body and mind already knew that something was brewing, and that her stay in Germany was about to become infinitely more complicated.

The knot beneath her ribs tightens at the thought, and she reaches for the bottle, wishing for the alcohol to bring her a reprieve from the situation. She knows how she feels about this but her mind still hasn’t truly caught up. 

She also can't stop remembering the last time she saw him and the deal she made with his siblings. 

_“Contact me only if something goes wrong…only if he needs me.”_

That had been her way of assuaging guilt for not sticking around even though neither sibling judged her for it. If anything, they were both sympathetic, understanding the position she was in: wanting to be there for someone who had grown important to her, but needing time to herself to lick her wounds…to mend _her_ heart after suffering a betrayal. 

That’s why the moment she saw that text message, the weight in her chest grew, threatening to crush her with anxiety and guilt. There was no reason for Rebekah Mikaelson to contact her unless…something was terribly wrong; unless it was a situation that neither she nor Elijah (the _Originals,_ for fuck’s sake) could handle. 

And what could that something be if not for what Caroline had feared most from the moment she left New Orleans. Her fear had only been confirmed when she read the message from the blonde Original. 

And now, she can't even touch her phone anymore, just keeps staring at it like it will give her foresight, center her emotions and force her to come up with some sort of plan…because she knows she only has a bit of time before the inevitable happens…before _he_ happens. 

The thought spurs her into action and she takes one more swig of the wine before deciding that she needs a _real_ drink, and she knows just the place. She grabs her phone one last time though, reading over the message from RM just once more…just to confirm. 

Inevitably, it leaves her with the same dread, guilt, and strange exhilaration. 

She leaves without it. 

_I know we promised not to contact you but it’s bad, Caroline. Nik’s turned it off and for a while we were able to keep him under control but now he’s disappeared…just be careful._

xxx 

Her mind is miles away from the darkened, emptying street and perhaps that’s her first mistake. 

Her second is trusting her instincts to warn her if something is amiss, which they fail to do, because, duh, she’s not concentrating at all. So when she pushes the door open to find her favorite bar completely empty, save for one occupant, she cannot conceal her surprise.

And it’s enough to give Klaus the ammunition he needs. 

“Finally, darling. You’ve kept me waiting for a good two hours now.” He pauses, and she swears it’s for dramatic effect, “but then again, what’s two hours in comparison to thirty years?”

His amusement never wavers and neither does the coldness in his eyes; and even though it’s been close to three decades since she’s been afraid of Klaus, a shiver runs down her spine involuntarily. He can tell immediately of course, and the smirk he gives her, along with the blatant onceover, leaves her throat uncomfortably dry. 

“Shall I interest you in a drink?” He asks, as if reading her mind and there’s a split second where Caroline swears she sees a flicker of _something_ in his eyes, some _emotion_ that tells her that even in his current state, Klaus would never purposely hurt her. 

And despite her better judgment, she listens to her instincts, which are now on full alert. 

“Well since you compelled all the patrons of my favorite bar to get lost, _along with the bartender,_ I guess I have no choice but to drink with you.” She snipes back at him, but it has no effect on him. 

The sting is unexpected, but this time she is prepared and betrays nothing of what she feels. She knows logically that this has nothing to do with her. After all, she has seen many a vampire switch off their humanity since Elena, but the thing, Caroline quickly realizes, about Klaus without his humanity is that he is still just as captivating.

He still exudes his usual confidence laced with a good dose of arrogance, but whereas others she has seen without humanity, Elena included, come off as a true blank canvas, Klaus is still replete with color, his spirit still somehow shines through. 

A strange sense of urgency suddenly fills her, a growing desire to force him back to his infuriating, at times pompous, and tenacious self, because _this_ Klaus is quite possibly the most dangerous version of the man she has ever encountered.

“I should warn you,” he begins, sliding a tumbler of scotch towards her at such a speed, she’s only able to catch it because she is in fight mode. His impressed look shouldn’t have any effect on her whatsoever, but it does. 

Caroline fights the urge to drain the glass in one go, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to her.

If possible, his smirk widens as he warns her. 

“I’m not going to turn it back on just because you ask me to.” 

“Oh really?” She asks, making sure there’s the right amount of incredulity in her voice. 

“Don’t play dumb, Caroline. It doesn’t suit you.” His tone is colder now, more detached, but it also sounds rehearsed, as if he’s spent decades perfecting the voice of the Big Bad Wolf. 

This observation reminds her of why he turned off his humanity in the first place and a subsequent bout of guilt hits her. Perhaps if she would have stayed, if she hadn’t left New Orleans when he was so clearly in need of her presence…

But no. 

It’s not her fault he turned it off, he’s a thousand year old vampire in full control of his decisions, (including concealing the impending birth of his child from her).

While she’s had plenty of time to heal over that particular discovery, it does not mean she has fully forgiven him. The ironic thing about immortality is that when one has nothing but time on her side, certain wounds take longer to heal. 

“My dear sister messaged you for a reason. She and Elijah are so damn hopeful that you’ll be the answer to their prayers,” Klaus scoffs at this, grabbing the bottle to refill both their glasses. 

Caroline doesn’t stop him; it’s apparent now that he’s had his switch flipped for quite some time (decades even) and has absolutely no desire to reunite with his humanity. 

“And you are of a different opinion?” 

He turns to her then, that empty gaze studying her critically for a moment, before his lips dissolve into a leering smile, “you’re good sweetheart, but you’re not _that_ good.” 

The glass nearly cracks under the pressure of her tightened grasp but other than that, Caroline gives him no other indication of her desire to jam something sharp and wooden through his chest for that lascivious comment. 

“Understood.” She replies coolly before taking another drink, “so why did you come here then?” 

This time, the calculating glare comes from her, and she holds it for as long as he lets her, hoping she can dig _something, anything_ out of him. There has to be something in him, a flicker of some emotion that made him seek her out, otherwise it doesn’t make sense. 

Why come find her? Why now? 

They stare at each other for a long time, and with every passing second, Caroline starts to lose hope. It’s unsettling how he looks exactly the same yet so very different, the same slightly tousled light hair, the same defined jaw dotted with stubble, the full red lips, and those damn necklaces peeking out from underneath the collar of some shirt that’s currently in style. 

And it strikes her so suddenly and so intensely how much she has missed him that Caroline almost doesn’t catch the subtle change in his expression. The barely imperceptible softening in his eyes makes her finally pinpoint exactly what it is that differentiates him from other vampires who have flipped the switch. 

Klaus doesn’t _want_ this. A part of him, no matter how small, is fighting against this.

This knowledge gives her clarity, reassurance that on some level she can help him fight this and be successful, but only with the right plan. 

“I got bored.” He shrugs nonchalantly, “there is only so much fun to be had stateside before you realize there is a whole world at your disposal across the pond. You seem to have caught on to that rather splendidly, my dear.” 

His compliment speaks volumes, confirms that even without his humanity, Klaus is still very much partial towards her. 

Somehow it feels like they’re finally on a level playing field, even if she knows that means next to nothing where Klaus is concerned. 

“I don’t believe you.” She narrows her eyes purposefully, bringing the scotch to her lips without looking away from him. 

His expression changes to something unreadable but Caroline doesn’t miss his gaze growing darker. Still for some reason it doesn’t scare her like it would have before his compliment. 

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I _care_ if you believe me or not.” 

But she _doesn’t_ believe him. It’s not boredom that brought him here. Especially not when his own sister had assumed he would come to find her. 

“You not caring, Klaus, doesn’t make it any less true.” She counters, channeling that inner Caroline that used to bring teenage rivals down to their knees with just the look in her eye and a flip of her hair. 

He stares at her in silence for just a moment, before letting out an uncharacteristically loud laugh. It’s then that the first signs of his inebriation actually come through and a part of her wants to laugh with him. 

But a bigger part aches for him, _physically_ aches. 

He’s so close to his breaking point; she can literally picture him with one foot off the cliff, balancing on the precipice. 

She doesn’t want to think about what that implies for why he’s here. In truth she may never know his real reason for finding her after so many years without his humanity. Instead, Caroline takes a healthy swallow from her glass, summoning all the liquid courage she can get, before fixing him with a challenging stare again. 

“Prove it.” 

“I’m sorry, love?” He raises an eyebrow at her, acting as though she’s so insignificant that he doesn’t bother allotting her a moment of his attention even though they’re the only two people in the bar. 

Caroline wonders if he even realizes that he’s playing right into her trap. 

She leans closer to him, sliding to the edge of her stool as her knees part to accommodate his. She watches as he tracks the movement of her thighs, bare skin sliding against his clothed legs. At his reaction, Caroline mentally pats herself on the back for choosing a short dress to wear that morning.

“I said, prove that the only reason you have come to find me is out of sheer boredom.” Her voice drops an octave on purpose, hand sliding across the bar closer to his forearm, brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt, but just barely. 

As if to show dominance, Klaus unexpectedly slides his hand high up her thigh, knuckles skimming the hem of her dress but not pushing it further up as she expects. It feels incredible anyway, and Caroline has to consciously remind herself not to get lost in the sensation of his cool fingers on her heated skin.

“Oh yeah? And how do you want me to do that, sweetheart?” She doesn’t realize how close he actually is until she feels his breath on her cheek. The proximity works in her favor though and she leans back just enough to look him squarely in the eye. 

“Kiss me.” 

This time she is prepared for the flash of surprise in his eyes but not quite so for the subsequent burst of heat in her belly. It’s Klaus who leans back this time, but only a fraction and only, she is sure, to give her a moment to absorb the enormity of what she’s requesting. 

Still, the silence gives Caroline a moment to gather her thoughts, to remind herself of the end. With a flirtatious smile, she leans forward. 

“What’s the matter? Is the Big Bad Wolf afraid of little Red Riding Hood?” 

In a flash, she finds herself pressed up against the opposite wall of the bar, a little winded but still on high alert, not fully surprised by Klaus’ impulsivity. However, that doesn’t last long, for a second later, she becomes fully aware of both their proximity and the dangerous glint in his eye. 

A wave of dread nearly cripples her as realization dawns. Her plan might actually work but in order for it to happen, she has to…she has to give in. 

Swallowing back the last trace of hesitation, she meets his gaze head on, hoping that he doesn’t see right through her, doesn’t feel out her true motives. When all she sees staring back at her are pools of darkened lust, she realizes that perhaps him not caring is what will actually make this work. 

It also saddens her, because she knows it as surely as she knows that the sky is blue that Klaus with his humanity intact would question her motives the _second_ she asked him to kiss her. Hell he’d probably anticipate her inquiry and give her ten million reasons why she wasn’t ready for this step.

And that is exactly why she has to do this. She cannot allow him to succumb to this shriveled up existence for eternity, not when he is doing it out of guilt and grief, and especially not when they have yet to see the world together… 

The last thought enters her mind unbidden and she works hard to push it away, which isn’t a problem with the growing distraction that Klaus is presenting.

“What’s the matter, love?” He murmurs knowingly, fully aware of the effect he’s having on her, “having second thoughts?” 

He says this in a tone that absolutely infuriates her and it’s not difficult to play the part of an irritated and frustrated Caroline. 

“Absolutely not,” She snaps back, grabbing the back of his neck roughly as if to prove a point. 

“So what are you waiting for?” 

If possible, his eyes darken even further and his body goes completely rigid, as if preparing for an attack. Caroline can’t help but feel like vulnerable prey at the moment. 

But she has no time to contemplate her position as he leans forward, his breath brushing the corner of her mouth as he stares at her almost indulgently, “don’t say I didn’t warn you, sweetheart.”  
And then he dives in…literally. 

His kiss is scorching, sending jolts of liquid fire spiraling through her veins. It feels like she’s just found shelter from a raging snowstorm and hadn’t even realized how _cold_ she was. When his tongue traces her lower lip, seeking entrance into her mouth, the moan that leaves her throat sounds foreign to her ear. The throb of arousal growing deep within her, however, is unmistakable and she finds herself giving in, losing focus.

Especially when one of his hands slides down, gripping the skin of her bare thigh again, but this time taking it one step further and wrapping it around his waist, leaving her completely exposed. 

His assault on her mouth doesn’t waver, even with his hands wreaking havoc on the rest of her body. She is nearly losing her battle with self control. The part of her that’s so completely enamored by him, that has wondered _for decades_ what it would be like to give into her attraction for Klaus nearly takes over. 

But then…

The heat generated between them suddenly becomes stifling. A beat of panic begins to drum inside her as she feels his grip on her thigh tighten to an almost bruising degree. She can barely breathe out his name in warning as his lips drag possessively across her jaw and to her throat. If Caroline had a pulse, she knew it would be throbbing in protest against his mouth. But as it stands, all she can do is grip his shoulders, using every ounce of her strength to snap him out of his reverie.

She is, however, no match for him, especially not when he is nearly mad with abandon. Physically, he puts everything of himself into their embrace, smothering every inch of her body but it’s without regard, because he isn’t emotionally invested at all. She's just a plaything to him and though she anticipated this, it still hurts...hurts so fucking much. 

But if there's anything Caroline has learned over the decades, it's that she will never _not_ be a fighter. She's simply not programmed to be a victim anymore, not since Mystic Falls, since Silas. She made a promise to herself then that she would _never_ be a victim again and this is no exception. 

The thought fills her with adrenaline and before she knows it, she’s digging her foot into the side of his hip and shoving him with all her might. Klaus stumbles back quite a few feet. It looks like she literally knocked him off balance as he stares in bewilderment, breathing heavily. 

For a moment, she yearns for the return of his body, but it's overshadowed by the immense relief running through her. 

It nearly numbs her, but not enough, because suddenly she feels it. 

The dull throb of pain at the base of her neck and the accompanying lightheadedness can only mean one thing.

She succeeded. 

For the first time in years, Caroline cannot quite decipher how she actually feels. The surge of guilt is now dueling with a sick sense of triumph. A hint of self-preservation kicks in but it's not enough to stave off the sudden ache in her heart as she finally gathers herself and chances a look at the man in front of her. 

If she's fighting an internal battle with her emotions, then Klaus looks like he's in the middle of a war and one in which he can't make sense of anything. At least he’s at least feeling _something_. The relief is palpable. She's done it; she's forced him to confront his humanity instead of escaping it. 

Still, Caroline isn’t sure whether the impending tears stem from sadness or joy. Shutting her eyes, she leans against the wall, working on blocking out the discomfort. 

Without sight, her other senses are amplified and she can hear his heavy breathing, can feel his shock and profound rage, and when she runs her tongue over her lips, she can taste him. 

The sudden burst of arousal snaps her eyes wide open and she is confronted with the sight of him.

"What have you done?" He whispers, and his accusation is clear, but the resignation in his tone betrays just how exhausted he actually is. How much of a toll _fighting_ his humanity has taken on him. 

The validation Caroline feels is almost like an antidote to the symptoms of a werewolf bite.

"I did what needed to be done to get your stubborn ass to snap the hell out of this." 

She refuses to feel guilty for this and though judging by how truly angry he is, there will be hell to pay, she doesn't care. This is for his own good damn it, and it's about time the Original Big Fucking Bad accepted help from someone else. 

Klaus narrows his eyes at her, hands curling into fists at his sides as a myriad of emotions flashes across his face. She can see him battling with himself, slowly getting used to having to navigate through the mess of emotions to find logic. 

He’s getting used to _feeling_ again.

Well good. He doesn't get to turn it off, get a free pass just because he has suffered loss. He doesn't get to be that selfish, not when they have all dealt with it. 

After all, Caroline has never turned her humanity off. Not when she discovered that her oldest friend sacrificed herself to resurrect the boy she loved; not when she realized that for months, her Stefan was drowning at the bottom of a river while the rest of them thought he was being a major jackass, because he lost the girl to his brother. And she didn't even turn her humanity off when she realized that with Klaus' permission or not, Tyler was never coming back. 

She hasn't thought about any of this in years, had assumed these wounds to be healed, and now that she confronts them, the tears finally fall. The tight rope of control she's been walking ever since she got that text from Rebekah finally snaps. But Caroline refuses to give Klaus the benefit of seeing her crumble, so she angrily wipes her eyes and braces for a verbal attack; ready to defend herself. 

However, she doesn't get a chance to. In a flash, Klaus is besides her once more, the sleeve of his jacket rolled up, as he braces himself against the wall and brings his exposed wrist to her lips. 

"Drink." He orders, dark eyes blazing, breathing barely controlled as he reigns in his anger.

“Now." He adds menacingly, and she has the nerve to peer at him almost apologetically from beneath her lashes, as she carefully takes his wrist. 

She sees his gaze softening as the spicy and sweet taste of his blood fills her senses; and she can't help but think that this is a hundred times more intimate (and arousing) than the violent groping that transpired just minutes earlier.

Caroline doesn't stop even when she's had her fill, treasuring this moment between them and committing everything to memory. Cataloguing the way he tastes, the way he smells, the way she can _feel_ him vibrate with anger. 

Selfishly, she takes everything that he gives her, trying to fill the chasm his inevitable departure will leave.

He must be thinking the same (or at least she wishes so) because even though he unexpectedly rips his wrist away from her, Klaus draws her into his arms. Caroline doesn’t fight him, isn’t really sure which one of them needs this more. Her guard comes down and she wraps her arms around him, holding on tightly as his cheek presses to the side of her head. 

She's so lost in him, in the comfort he provides, that she doesn't even realize he's speaking until he's tearing away from her, hands on her shoulders as he searches for confirmation. 

_"Don't ever do that again, not for anyone, especially not for me.”_

"Promise me." He grits through his teeth, grip on her shoulder tightening as if he can will it into her, "promise me, Caroline." 

It's the way he says her name that wakes her from her daze, prompting her to nod her head, even when she's burning inside, anger simmering at his audacity. He has no right asking her to promise him anything, not when he broke his. 

"Say it." He demands anyway, because that’s who Klaus is. He takes what he wants without regard for anyone or anything. 

That’s ultimately what makes her acquiesce, because at least _that_ Klaus is back, hopefully all the good parts with the bad. 

"I promise." 

When Caroline dares to look at him again, the flicker of gratitude in his eyes is unmistakable, but in a flash he’s gone and she knows that image will haunt her until the next time she sees him.

xxx


	3. February 2065

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't let her go too far, trailing a path across her cheek with his thumb.
> 
> "What you did for me," he whispers almost reverently, "I could never repay."
> 
> She starts to protest, but he halts her, tracing her lower lip.
> 
> "You pulled me out of the darkness, Caroline. You gave me my life back and I think it's time I give you yours back as well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear lovely readers, thank you for the amazing feedback. I had planned to put this part up way earlier but as such, real life rudely interrupts in the most unexpected way possible sometimes and I had to put this on the back burner for a week or so. I’m back, however, and looking forward to concluding this story. There are three more parts after this and I hope you enjoy reading this one. Thank you to my beta, Cathy, who does a great job keeping me in check :).

xxx 

_"To design the future effectively, you must first let go of your past."_  
 _\- Charles J. Givens (American author)_

xxx

**_February 2065_ **

**Sao Paulo**

2064 is a decidedly crappy year for her. 

Sometime in March, she gets a text message from Elijah that simply says: _“whatever you did, thank you.”_

Her immediate thought is to change her number, but that would be fruitless considering they’re Originals and have proven time and again that when they need to, they will find her, even after decades of zero contact. 

So instead, Caroline decides to turn her phone off and focus on taking in the rest of the lovely afternoon at this charming little teahouse she found purely by accident on the outskirts of Kyoto. Unfortunately, her mother, who sits across the table, assesses her with skeptical eyes while sipping gingerly from a cup of jasmine green. 

“Who was that?” 

“No one.” Caroline replies nonchalantly, hoping her mother will let it go, but of course she isn’t that lucky.

“You know, sweetie, you may outlive me for centuries to come, but in the present moment, I am the older and wiser one, so I suggest you tell me what’s going on and let me help you.” 

The unspoken “while I’m still around to do that” hangs heavy between them. However, the sight of her mother’s frail, age-spotted hand landing on top of hers reminds Caroline of how fleeting their time together is. As such, she refuses to burden her mother with all this supernatural nonsense. 

It’s only months later, September 26th to be exact, that Caroline finally breaks down and tells Liz everything. She talks for so long she isn’t even sure her mother, bed-ridden from a terrible bout of pneumonia, can absorb all of it. 

By the time she’s finished retelling everything down to Klaus’ visit to Berlin, tears are streaming down her face. The only thing that grounds her, that helps her overcome all these old feelings that Elijah’s text has reawakened is her mother’s frail touch and soothing voice. 

Her mother’s last words stay with her for months to come. 

Caroline doesn’t understand their significance until she stands in the familiar cemetery on a cold autumn morning in her hometown, watching her mother’s coffin being lowered into the ground. 

Stefan was considerate enough to come up with cover stories for all of them, so they stand openly amidst the crowd of mourners. She looks around and sees the pieces of her inner circle coming together: Stefan and Elena flank her on both sides, with Damon respectfully just off to the side, even though she considers him now as much a part of her family as his younger brother. 

Jeremy and Matt and even Tyler stand with their respective families just behind her and when she ventures a glance over her shoulder, Caroline swears she can see Bonnie Bennett, in all her 17 year old glory, smiling wanly at her from a distance. 

The observation brings tears to her eyes. She knows that even with her mother gone, she still has family…will always have family around her. 

_“Even with eternity, darling, life is still too short to spend alone.”_

Still, it isn’t until later that night, when she trudges up the steps to her childhood home that Caroline has to fully confront the meaning behind those words. The floral arrangement is breathtaking, a tasteful mix of red and pale pink roses, combined with carnations (her mother’s favorite) and a new species of flower she can’t identify. 

It sits innocently at her doorstep and Caroline has the strongest urge to fling it aside, destroy its beauty. Instead she composes herself and carries the basket inside, not even bothering to locate a card because she knows exactly who sent the lavish bouquet. 

The gesture makes her angry. If he cared enough to send her flowers, then why wasn’t he here? Why couldn’t _he_ be there for _her_ in her moment of need like she had been there for him? 

The thought makes her hurt like she hasn’t in decades. Her mother’s death is a blow, but in true Caroline fashion she has been preparing for it for the last decade that they spent traveling together.

But this…this just makes her feel like she’s been cast aside by the only person who feels like a constant in her life; despite the turns their relationship has taken over the years. This revelation in turn makes her so livid, she nearly punches a wall in her childhood bedroom. 

She’s so freaking tired of living like this, handicapped by these stupid feelings towards a stupid man who for all his thousand years on earth, doesn’t have the fucking decency to even call her when he finds out her mother has passed away. 

No, he sends fucking flowers. 

Well fuck him, she thinks, as she repacks her suitcase and throws it in the back of her rental. 

She flees Mystic Falls that night without telling anyone where she’s going; she isn’t normally this impulsive, but she needs this for herself. 

She’s close to losing it, close to turning it _off_ and if there’s one thing Caroline Forbes has never been, it’s a hypocrite and she’s not about to start right after she buried her mother. 

Her friends, her inner circle, of course try to find her. First it’s Elena, who is easy to spot in a crowd of Scandinavians, then Stefan, who makes the mistake of checking into the same hotel he always stays at when visiting Luxembourg. 

Even Tyler, who is much more difficult to evade considering he has legions of wolves on the look-out for her, manages to slip up when she picks up his scent at a farmer’s market in Argentina. He may have legions, but she’s been a vampire for half a century now and she knows how to hide.

It’s no surprise then that it’s Damon who finds her in some dingy dive bar in Chile one December evening. She’s doing a body shot off some cute but faceless teenager when she spots the older Salvatore across the bar. She is drunk enough to throw a litany of obscenities at him as he toasts her with his beer, but one look at him and the words die on her lips. 

Beneath his signature smirk is the same weariness she sees in the mirror each morning, and she promises herself that the second she’s sober enough she will call her oldest living friend in the whole wide world and tell her to make up her freaking mind about which of the Salvatore brothers she wants. 

She loves Elena dearly, but becoming a vampire only amplified her indecisiveness and it seems that in this decade, she prefers the younger Salvatore to the older. Caroline would give her a piece of her mind, but she’s been busy in the last half century, what with showing her ageing mother the world and crossing paths with he who shall not be named. 

So when Damon saunters up to her and greets her with his standard, “What’s up, Blondie?” the familiarity is so comforting, so terribly necessary, that instead of sending him away, Caroline hands him a tequila shot. 

Just like that she’s not alone anymore.

They explore South America together, covering the whole of Chile and Argentina before making their way back up through Bolivia to Brazil. It’s easy with Damon because she has no danger of falling for him (his treatment of her when she was human is something she has forgiven but will never forget.)

Besides, he’s so in love with Elena, it’s almost pathetic.

Best of all, Damon doesn’t make her discuss her feelings toward a certain somebody, which pretty much makes him the perfect partner in crime. 

That and his seemingly endless knowledge of decent watering holes. 

But eventually, like all good partnerships, hers and Damon’s comes to an end. 

One night after they’ve just raided a blood bank (more like a semi-unsanitary clinic) in downtown Rio, Damon tells her that he got a call from Elena that morning. Apparently, she and Stefan have been keeping an eye on Mystic Falls in the last few months and there is a potential young vampire problem forming in the city. He will leave the following morning. 

Caroline insists she go with him, but Damon refuses. He doesn’t placate her or provide her with a list of reasons to assuage her guilt (like Stefan or Elena probably would). Instead he tells her that that town has sucked her back in more times than is necessary and unlike him, she has no reason to go back there. 

In turn, she doesn’t call him out on his true motivation for returning…love is something even centuries-old vampires cannot shake, it seems. It’s also true that Mystic Falls truly stopped being her home when her mother died and going back there would only set her back, so she doesn’t fight him. At the same time, she is genuinely sad to see Damon go and has no qualms telling him so the next morning.

He doesn’t hug her or throw some sentiment back at her, because it’s not his style. Instead, he swings the duffle over his shoulder and winks at her as he slides into the back of the cab. 

“Something tells me you won’t be alone for too long, Blondie. Send me a postcard, will ya?” 

And then he’s gone. She scowls at his words regardless. It’s so typically infuriating of him to leave her hanging with such a loaded statement. It also reminds her too much of another equally (if not more) temperamental man and she packs her bags that same night, buying a one-way bus ticket out of Rio. 

Fully aware that she’s running and fully aware that she doesn’t care. 

(well sort of)

She rings in the New Year in a crowd of people popping champagne bottles and screaming at the fireworks exploding in downtown Sao Paulo. When the clock strikes midnight, she promises herself that 2065 will shape up to be a much better year than 2064. 

And being in Brazil certainly doesn’t disappoint. 

It’s not her first time in the city, so she trades in all the touristy attractions for the hidden gems. She spends time roaming the various city parks, darting in and out of churches, and scouting the street fairs to add to her growing collection of rosaries. 

Despite her desire to stay away from the crowd, however, there is one event she cannot miss: the annual Carnival that takes the entire city by storm every February. That’s how Caroline finds herself dancing the samba with a very talented and _very_ sexy Brazilian in the middle of the street while everything and everyone around her pulsates with music. 

Abruptly, the fast paced beat changes to something slower, more suggestive, and Caroline welcomes the shift in stride, tilting her hips back just enough to drive the guy dancing behind her a little mad. She can feel his arousal, can smell him everywhere around her, and the air, charged with electricity, practically begins to sizzle as she tilts her head back just enough to skim her lips across his jaw. 

Of course, before he can lean forward and properly kiss her like she knows he wants to, a sudden change in the air halts both their movements. Before Caroline can really assess the situation, she feels the tug on her wrist and that smooth, low voice breaking through her alcohol-induced haze. 

“Mind if I steal your lovely partner, mate?” 

The way he doesn’t even address her even though she’s standing _right there_ trumps any relief she may feel at the physical confirmation that he is seemingly back to normal, humanity and all. 

Instead, Caroline feels a surge of anger and frustration so powerful, she rips her wrist from Klaus’ grasp and puts herself between him and the now bewildered man staring at them both in confusion.

“Yes, he does.” She snaps at the hybrid, trying to ignore the way his eyes positively alight as he appraises her. 

Sometimes, she thinks her feelings are just out to sabotage her, because the moment she drinks him in…all of him, from the tips of his curls to the trademark steel toed boots he has likely worn for decades, the anger inside her dissolves, replaced by a warmth and comfort she can’t quite understand.

In that moment, she can’t help but curse Damon Salvatore and his foreshadowing words. She braces herself for an attack regardless, ready to fight Klaus. 

But he surprises her; like she wasn’t sure he was capable of doing anymore. 

“Very well,” Klaus exhales, as though in defeat, “I’m sticking around for a few days. I’ll text you my address in case you have a change of mind.” 

Caroline already feels like she’s losing resolve, so of course the bastard has to add his infuriating smile to the mix and compliment her, “it’s good to see the years haven’t diminished you in any way, Caroline.” 

The subtle allusion to her freaking _light_ makes her want to tear her hair out, but she simply can’t help herself. As much as she doesn’t want to give into him, not when he swooped into her life with such a blasé attitude and interrupted a perfectly good dance with an above average dance partner, she calls to him before he can disappear into the crowd. 

The genuine delight on his face when he turns around disables the last of her defenses and Caroline stomps towards him resolutely; faceless dance partner long forgotten as the hybrid yet again consumes all her senses. 

She can’t help feeling bitter at her own lack of will power when it comes to him, so she grasps him a little too roughly by his jacket sleeve and pulls him in the direction she wants. 

“Come on, my apartment is this way,” she explains through gritted teeth as she weaves them through the crowd. At least if they’re going to talk, they’re going to do it on her terms and on her turf. 

He owes her that much.

xxx 

As soon as they enter her distinctly small studio apartment, she is prepared for his comments. 

While he takes in the cramped surroundings, she can't help but scowl at him, waiting for the inevitable criticism. 

"This isn’t your typical dwelling." He assesses finally, but there's no real judgment in his voice. It irks Caroline anyway, especially since he presumes to know what kind of _dwelling_ she prefers.

“Extravagance doesn't exactly blend in, in a city like this.” She explains, picking the remains of the flower wreath out of her hair, a physical reminder of the carefree abandon she felt earlier in the day.

She sees him nod in affirmation and can't help but roll her eyes. He has no right to make her feel insecure about where she decides to live; it's not like she has a shortage of beautiful properties scattered all over the world. She even paid for a large portion of them herself, no compulsion necessary, thank you very much.

Removing the last of flowers from her curls, she whips around and looks at him with purpose. 

“You know I’ve had a monumentally crappy few months and I’d really appreciate if you didn’t beat around the bush and just told me why you’re here.” 

Klaus pauses then, fingers tangled in one of the beaded necklaces hanging from her vanity table. Seeing him so comfortable around her things, in her sanctuary, sends a jolt of warmth through her. The way his eyes settle on hers, so soft and full of empathy starts to chip away at her defenses and she takes a step back as he approaches her. 

“I know. I heard about your mother…I’m sorry, Caroline.” 

Then the fury returns with a vengeance, because he has absolutely no right to even mention her mother. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” she can’t conceal her bitterness, “your flowers truly conveyed how broken up you were over it.” She adds sarcastically; then turns around because she can't bear to look at him.  
For the last few months, she's done a fantastic job of living in denial, convincing herself that she had made peace with her mother's death even before it happened...but now, she wonders whether this was the rude awakening meant to force her to address the fact that she really isn't over anything.

“I would have come to the funeral, but I…couldn’t.” 

Caroline can feel his presence behind her, knows he's now substantially closer to her. So she doesn't turn around, for fear that seeing the regret in his eyes, so easily betrayed in his voice will make her do something _she_ will regret later. 

Anger is a much safer route to take. 

“Oh yeah? When was the last time you _couldn’t_ do something? Just admit it. You didn’t _care_ enough to show up.” 

With these words, she finally faces him and seeing him so visibly frustrated, more than a flicker of regret swimming in his eyes, gives her satisfaction. 

Good. 

He _should_ regret it; he should feel the maximum amount of guilt possible.

“Now, love, you know that’s not true. I wanted to be there but Stefan told me to stay away, that it wouldn’t be good for you. Upon seeing you, begrudgingly I have to admit that he was indeed right.”

“Stefan? What the hell does Stefan have to do with this?”

She's so close to losing it now, her grip on the kitchen table nearly splinters the wood. How dare he bring other people into this? How dare he contrive some outlandish lie to place the blame elsewhere?  
“Well, he’s my, what do you call it, 'sober sponsor,' if I remember the term correctly?”

Caroline doesn't even react to the slight smugness on his face. Instead, all she can think about is how this entire time that she was so angry and bitter about his absence, so hurt that he could never just be there when she needed him, that entire time he was going through a personal hell of his own. The mix of relief and guilt nearly cripples her and Caroline leans against the table, staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes as the pieces all come together.

“Yes, it is miraculous isn’t it," Klaus muses, now only a few inches away from her, "but even I sometimes have to ask for help and since I couldn’t ask you, who better than the vampire who has turned off his humanity not once but twice.” 

Once Caroline processes exactly what he is saying, something about the situation becomes undeniably humorous and she can't help the laugh that escapes. 

“So let me get this straight. You, Klaus, the Big Bad Original Hybrid, who can barely trust his own siblings, asked Stefan Salvatore of all vampires to help you recuperate after flipping the switch back on?”

When she actually confirms this, Caroline is glad she is laughing, because if not, she might actually cry and she's wasted enough tears on this man.

Klaus apparently doesn’t find the concept as amusing because he glowers down at her, his signature smirk replaced by pursed lips and narrowed eyes. 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, sweetheart.”

And it shouldn’t feel so good to hear him call her that again.

“And after what I did to you," his voice actually drops an octave and Caroline shivers as he reaches out and fingers a loose curl, "I deemed it a desperate time indeed.”

For the first time in their entire exchange, she is rendered truly speechless, both by his words and by the intensity in his eyes. It brings to the forefront all the memories she's fought so hard to put away, lock in a box and shove to the corner of her mind. It also makes her feel incredibly weak. 

As glad as she is that for all intents and purposes, the hybrid is back to his old humanity-intact self, she instantly feels suffocated by his presence, by the onslaught of emotions he evokes.

Begrudgingly, Klaus steps back, giving her a moment as he surveys the room again, smiling fondly at the neatly folded stack of clothes on her perfectly made bed. 

And even though Caroline does need space, probably an entire continent’s worth to fully understand what the hell is going on now, the adoration so openly displayed in his expression sparks something within her.  
She acts on impulse then and before either of them can register what's happening, she launches towards him, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. 

Klaus stands stiff, unmoving, but Caroline doesn't care. For one glorious, unguarded moment, she feels completely at peace. Every bit of anxiety and grief she has felt in the last year, ever since that text from Elijah, ever since her mother's health began to drastically decline, fades. 

And greedily, Caroline hangs onto this respite, focusing on the fact that Klaus is safe, that he's okay that her sacrifice back in Berlin hasn't been in vain.

The revelation brings a smile to her face and she doesn't feel ashamed in her vulnerability, in her desire to be close to him, as close as possible. As much as she has fought these feelings for the better part of a half-century, her mother's words forced her to snap out of denial and slowly begin to accept that she can't control her heart. 

Besides, eternity is indeed too short a time to spend alone.

So deeply ensconced in her own thoughts, Caroline doesn't notice how carefully Klaus settles his hands on her back, pulling her flush against him but ever so slowly; as if he is afraid that any wrong move on his part would cause her to move away. 

The warmth she feels from his embrace, however, is inescapable and she fists the material of his jacket as she presses her cheek against the warm skin of his throat. 

"I am so glad you're okay." She whispers, and the way he tenses in her arms broadens her smile. It's good to know she's not alone in this; that he is just as affected by this slow burn between them. 

Emphasis on the slow and the _burn_.

Caroline can't quite pinpoint the moment at which the warmth inside her morphs into a fire, arousal sending tingles all the way to her toes. She chances a look at Klaus, and the way his jaw sets once again confirms that she is not alone in this. 

It also prompts her to put some distance between them, because they both know this is a step that neither of them is quite ready for, at least not in a way that would lead to any longevity. She is still, begrudgingly, grieving her mother...and Klaus, well, the way his tiniest movements betray his tenuous grip on control signals that he's not quite himself yet. 

It's almost amusing how much she yearns for him to revert back to who he used to be, to regain everything that the switch took from him, good and bad. She figures, though, that the experience has altered him permanently, and seeing him now, not hiding behind his arrogance or holier than thou attitude, Caroline wonders if perhaps she will like this version of him better.

Klaus doesn't let her go too far, trailing a path across her cheek with his thumb.

"What you did for me," he whispers almost reverently, "I could never repay."

She starts to protest, but he halts her, tracing her lower lip. 

"You pulled me out of the darkness, Caroline. You gave me my life back." 

If there had ever been any doubt as to how he felt for her, then the way he talks to her now, the way he says her name, and the look of utter devotion on his face dispel any thought to the contrary. Caroline is certain that if she still had a beating heart, it would be the only sound either of them would hear at this moment.

As it stands, however, there is only silence and it somehow only amplifies the intensity of his gaze upon her; it should make her squirm, but it doesn't. She vaguely remembers how being the sole focus of Klaus' attention used to make her both uncomfortable and elated...now there's no trace of discomfort, only warmth...only security, and it makes her nearly lightheaded. 

"And I think it's time that I gave you, your life back."

The dizzying feeling gives way to confusion and it must reflect on her face because Klaus chuckles at her reaction, eyes softening just slightly as he rubs his thumb back and forth across her jaw.

As if he can't get enough. 

"I know you haven't truly lived, not since the last time we saw each other. You've simply existed looking over your shoulder from city to city, wondering when I would show up, when the rug would be pulled from beneath you...and then your mother." 

Caroline wants to argue with him but can't find it in herself to disagree, because everything that he says is true. Even though she doesn't want to hurt him by admitting that, she doesn't want to lie either. So instead, she prods him to clarify. 

"What are you saying, Klaus?"

"I'm saying that you don't have to run anymore." He starts, voice rising just slightly as if his own plan is starting to sound unattractive to his ears. The warring emotions on his face confuse her, but she powers through, trying to reign in her anxiety and hear him out. 

"I know I have no right to ask you to promise me anything but I am going to, and in turn I will promise something to you." 

She is getting impatient, wanting him to get to the point, but she knows it's also not his style, that after decades of not seeing her, not being near her, he wants to stretch out their moments together. Intuitively, she knows he's not going to stick around and for some reason, she is okay with it. She knows it's the right thing for them right now, even if the impending separation is already stinging her. 

"I am going back to New Orleans tonight. Tensions have only escalated since I've been away and I refuse to let Marcel destroy what is left of my home. I need to reclaim what is mine. I need to make sure there is a future for my family in New Orleans." 

She wants to argue with him again, protest this silly, overrated notion of his that he has execute power to get what he wants. But she has heard things, rumors in the supernatural community that a dangerous vampire is indeed wreaking havoc in the States, trying to extend his power across the entirety of the South and that he must be stopped. 

If there is anyone who can do it, it's Klaus, so she doesn't fight him on it; especially not when she has the acute feeling that he feels somehow responsible for the damage New Orleans has endured in his absence.  
A part of her still feels jilted somehow, like she isn't important enough for him to even spend a little bit of time with her. After all, a few months is the equivalent of a few seconds when you have all of eternity. These conflicting thoughts leave her exhausted and resigned. 

"I get it, Klaus. I really do, but I don't see what that has to do with me, or why you came here."

The look he gives her doesn't make sense until he speaks again, this time engulfing her entire cheek in his palm. An action he wouldn't have dared allow himself the pleasure of even a decade ago, at least not after Berlin.

"Being that I am completely and utterly in love with you makes you a liability, so while I handle this pesky business in Louisiana, I need you to promise me that you'll stay as far away from New Orleans and Mystic Falls as possible. At least until I get Marcel to see things my way."

Every word after the admission of his feelings goes completely over her head, and Caroline can't even wrap her mind around what she has just heard, let alone agree to any promises. 

Did he really just...? 

The look on his face confirms that, yes he really did just admit that he's in love with her and that he's also waiting for her to freak out at any moment. This is the only thing that keeps Caroline tethered to control, keeps her from exploding on him like she wants to, so badly. 

How dare he just drop a bomb like that on her and then ask her to stay away, away from her home for god knows how long? She ignores the fact that he's doing this for her protection, and that she really hasn't considered Mystic Falls home in nearly half a century, because he's not allowed to place demands on her, dictate her life to her like she's some... 

God, she doesn't even know what. 

Her mind is in such disarray, she barely absorbs his next words.

"In return, I promise to trust you enough to let you go. I won't keep tabs on you, I will not send anyone to spy on you, and I will not make contact with you unless you initiate it." 

This throws her for an even bigger loop, but seeing his determination, Caroline slowly begins to understand his motive, piecing the puzzle together. His plan is actually quite brilliant and if she thought that even one part of it was disingenuous, she would kick his ass all the way back to wherever he came from. But she knows that he means it, means _all_ of it and the tightness in her throat only intensifies as tears rush to her eyes. 

_He is in love with her._

Somehow the fact that she's always known this doesn't diminish her elation. Maybe she _does_ like this honest, more open version of Klaus better. 

Especially because she's certain that he doesn't expect her to say anything back. They both know that she's not ready, not in the slightest, despite how much she's missed him over the years and how important he is to her. 

The revelation that he's a part of her inner circle shouldn't be so surprising but it is and she locks eyes with him, hoping that she can communicate everything she can't say...isn't ready to say. 

The smile he grants her in turn lets her know that he indeed understands and that he does not mind saying goodbye now if it means they can reunite later. There's a certain peace about him, and for a brief moment Caroline wonders if confessing his feelings has unburdened him. She has the keen intuition that despite whatever darkness and danger Klaus will inevitably encounter in his quest to reclaim his city, it will not taint his soul, not like before.

"I realized that I never truly let you go and allowed you to explore the world. It wasn't Tyler or Mystic Falls that was holding you back, it was me." 

She briefly considers arguing with him, but is too captivated by his words to actually interrupt, especially when he's looking at some unseen spot behind her, tears glistening in the corners of his vibrant eyes.

He needs to let this out.

"I let Elijah call you to New Orleans back then without any regard for your feelings, for the betrayal you must have felt at discovering Hayley’s condition. Then Berlin...I now realize that I was wrong. It wasn't just you who wasn't ready for me, I wasn't ready either. But I am now." 

She's so enamored by him, by his words and by their meaning that she doesn't notice how close they are until he's standing flush against her. Her curves mold to his sturdy frame as he rests both hands on her shoulders, right thumb running back and forth over the spot on her neck where his fatal bite had nearly killed her all those years ago.

When she doesn't say anything, he continues, this time lifting his eyes to hers, clarity setting them alight. 

"I am ready now, and I will wait for you for as long as you need; this time without holding you back." 

His confidence places just the tiniest bit of pressure on her but it's enough to fill Caroline with doubt. 

What if she's never going to be ready? What if it's not so easy? And she can't help voicing her concern. 

"What if...I mean, how can you be so sure?" 

Old insecurities seep into her, that distant part of her that still remembers what it was like before she was turned, coming back to life.

Again, Klaus seems to know exactly what she's feeling and the imperceptible curl of his fingers through her hair immediately relaxes her. 

"Because, love, I had lived for a very long time prior to setting foot back into Mystic Falls but the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were it for me. You were never just a first choice, sweetheart, you were _the only_ choice. That's how I can be so sure." 

This time, Caroline doesn't overthink it, knowing she'll have plenty of time later to revel in the depth of his confession.

"Okay," she hears herself agreeing, "I promise I'll stay away, at least until it's safe." 

The smile Klaus gives her is contagious. Caroline finds herself smiling back even though this entire conversation has felt surreal, and is not at all what she had expected when he found her earlier. Klaus must sense her disorientation, because he pulls her into a short embrace, anchoring her back to reality with the feel and smell of him. 

Both senses will inevitably linger in this apartment until she moves on. 

"I'm glad you agree. Something tells me it would have been difficult to execute this without you on board." 

The teasing tone injects some much needed levity into the moment, and Caroline finds herself rolling her eyes at him ruefully, already missing his arms around her as he reluctantly takes a few steps back. 

"You know you can never win against me." She smiles back and his eyes darken just a bit, despite his obvious amusement. 

"And it only took me fifty years to figure out." He admits affectionately, that self-deprecating tone so atypical coming from him. 

Warmth blooms in her heart. 

This entire conversation has been a glimpse into what she knows he's always been capable of becoming. Though she is sad to see him go so quickly, it leaves her with a renewed sense of strength, like maybe she can start to fully heal; can appreciate everything around her instead of constantly using it as an escape from all the heartache and pain she has suffered. 

"Oh, there is one more thing," 

In a flash Klaus is besides her again, knuckles brushing against her chin, as he buries his hand wrist deep in her hair. 

"Call me selfish, but I simply cannot let you go without leaving you with a much better memory than our last encounter." 

Caroline can barely register what he is about to do before his lips are on hers, binding them together in the sweetest and most distracting way possible. She knows she should push him away but even she doesn't have that kind of self control. Instead, she parts her lips for him, angling her mouth just enough to elicit the moan emanating from deep within his throat. 

Or is it hers? 

At this point, she can't be sure of anything. All she wants to do is hold onto him and never let go. 

Abruptly, Klaus breaks the kiss, darkened gaze betraying his own vie for control, and Caroline can’t help smiling. A blush rises on her cheek as he traces her lower lip once again, his eyes giving her one last sweep. 

And then he's gone in a flash, leaving her door swinging on its hinges. 

Logically she should be pissed that he's left her like this. Completely unsure of how she will even go about diffusing all the verbal bombs he's dropped on her while her entire body is in a frenzy. But nothing about how she’s feeling at the moment signals doubt, anger or regret.

The ball is in her court and she intends to take full advantage of it. 

This time she won't simply wait until Klaus finds her again. 

Next time, Caroline will be the one to find him. 

But first things first. 

She locates her phone at the bottom of her purse and dials a familiar number, waiting impatiently for it to ring.

When the other line picks up, she cuts past the greeting, there will be time for that later. 

"Stefan Salvatore, you are in big trouble."

xxx


	4. March 2082

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know that's why you and Young Lockwood never worked out."
> 
> His words catch her off guard, but also pique her interest. 
> 
> "Why?"
> 
> He meets her eye then, blue-green orbs boring into her very soul as he leans in closer, fully aware of the effect he's having on her as his breath skirts her cheek. 
> 
> "He never could quite figure out when you were in need of rescuing and when you needed to fight for yourself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear my very patient readers. This month has been absolutely crazy for me and thus this chapter sat in my inbox ready to go for much longer than I planned. My apologies but on the upside, it’s pretty lengthy and sets up the stage for the remaining two chapters of the story, which I hope you will enjoy. Thank you again to my lovely editor, Cathy, and to all of you who have been giving me such marvelous feedback. I hope I don’t disappoint!

xxx 

_“It's often just enough to be with someone. I don't need to touch them. Not even talk. A feeling passes between you both. You're not alone.”  
― Marilyn Monroe (American icon)_

xxx 

**_March 2082_ **

**Kislovodsk**

When Matt's youngest grandchild actually goes missing, Caroline is somewhere in the Caucasus mountain range in western Russia, hiking towards Mount Elbrus. 

This isn't her first time in the region. She's done some variation of this hike before, but this route was just recently mapped out with the help of new technology and Caroline couldn't resist the opportunity to revisit one of her favorite places in Eastern Europe. 

In a world that is constantly evolving, nature is one of the precious few reminders that some aspects of the universe are stable, unchanging, and Caroline finds comfort in that. There is still beauty in the mundane, and she has learned that decades ago when she first watched the sun rise over Mount Elbrus. 

It still takes her breath away. 

This specific expedition is run by an old, experienced hiker who ironically has a prejudice against technology. Between the seven of them, they have one satellite radio for emergencies and a small compass that their leader keeps on himself at all times. 

It's late March but still bitterly cold, so the group is small, only the true enthusiasts. Caroline gets to know every single one of them, down to their scent and the distinct rhythm of their individual heartbeats.

That's how she realizes they have company and quickly excuses herself from the temporary campsite to go investigate. The further away she walks, the stronger this other, foreign scent becomes, until it's all around her. A chill runs down her spine when she feels a presence behind her.

The beast is magnificent, blazing yellow eyes offset by its thick brown coat and the undisturbed dark of the night. Caroline braces for a fight, fangs extended when the wolf howls. 

It's a beautiful, majestic sound but some of her adrenaline subsides as she detects the element of youth and submission in the howl. Upon further examination, Caroline realizes this wolf is merely a pup; by her estimation probably turned less than a year ago. 

She immediately retracts her fangs. 

The wolf's pack is no doubt nearby but this one she can take even without transforming. She's nearly a hundred years old, no match for the baby wolf. Strangely, her opponent seems to agree. With one more look in her direction, the creature turns around and disappears into the night. 

Maybe a few decades ago, Caroline wouldn't have thought too much about such a weird occurrence, but a century of experiencing the best and worst of the supernatural (and humanity) does not afford her such a luxury. 

And she's right to be cautious, because as she turns around to head back to the campsite, already forming a plan on how to persuade the stubborn instructor to move in case the wolf comes back with the rest of the pack, she realizes she isn't alone. 

Her breath catches ever so slightly, heart thudding against her rib cage as nostalgia washes over.

"Tyler." She murmurs his name in wonder, pleased that she is still capable of surprise.

"Hey Care," He greets her with a smile but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Caroline immediately picks up on the urgency in his voice and doubt settles in her gut.

"What's wrong?" She asks, closing the space between them naturally, as though it hasn't been years since she last saw him. 

She supposes it's like that with family. 

"I'll explain everything, but we need to get out of here." 

Normally, she would put up a fight, demand answers, but she can see the turmoil brewing in his gaze. There's a trace of exhaustion there as well and she wonders how long he's been tracking her. 

"Okay," she nods, "I'll just grab my gear." 

"No time," Tyler shakes his head, falling into step with her as she retraces her route back to the campsite. 

At this, she stops and looks at him, fear blooming in her chest as she realizes how long it's been since she's been in touch with anyone at all, let alone her inner circle. 

Tyler visibly hesitates.

Caroline swallows. 

"Just tell me, Tyler."

And he obliges, telling her that Eliot Donovan disappeared from his dorm at Whitmore College a little less than a week prior. Caroline doesn't even fight the guilt. She lets it wash over her before grabbing Tyler by the arm and determinedly heading back to the campsite. 

"Let's get out of here." 

xxx 

Aside from dropping this bombshell on her, Tyler also informs her that the decades long war in New Orleans has reached a conclusion favorable to the Original family. He casually drops this into their conversation as they are being driven to the nearest airport by someone from his pack.

Caroline betrays nothing of her momentary relief. 

Instead, she gives him a small smile and turns her gaze to the window. The sun rising in the distance over the mountain range still has the same affect it had on her the first time she witnessed it. She's glad her last memory of this region is so calming, because she knows there are trying times ahead. 

Tyler continues to talk, if only to fill the silence, but she tunes him out, plan already developing after all the details he has shared about Eliot's disappearance. 

The 20-year-old was doing an extensive research project on the supernatural history in Virginia, and the running theory Tyler has is that Eliot was too close to the truth and someone with a reason to protect the supernatural world attempted to subdue him. 

"The only issue with that is, we have no idea who it could be or who we can trust. The witches have always kept a healthy interest in concealing their existence from humans; same with vampires and werewolves." Tyler explains, signaling to Caroline that he's had quite a bit of time to think about this. 

They all have...Elena, Stefan, even Damon...while she ignorantly roamed the highest peaks in the world looking for some peace and quiet. Her fists curl subtly at her own negligence. She should have been there. 

"What about Bonnie? Has she been able to help?" Caroline asks, still refusing to look at Tyler; terrified she won't be able to hide her inner turmoil. 

There's a beat of silence and she braces herself for the inevitably bad news. 

"Well, you know she cut off communication with Jeremy after he got married...and Matt has been trying to communicate with her, but he's too weak now and-..." 

His voice falters and Caroline grips his hand, squeezing tightly. There's no need to force Tyler into addressing the issue of Matt's mortality. 

Now is not the time for that. Now is the time to think, plan, and execute, because the least they can do for Matt in his old age is make sure his grandson is safe and sound. 

Then she'll kick the munchkin's ass for knowingly delving into such a dangerous world. 

The urgency of it all, knowing how important this is to Matt, leaves her with a sense of clarity that only having lived for close to a century can provide. She's no longer the same Caroline who fought on impulse, driven by emotion. 

That doesn't mean there isn't a small flicker of excitement that spreads warmth through her belly as a plan takes shape.

"We need a witch we can trust to perform a locator spell and I know just how to find one." 

Tyler seems to understand where her thoughts are headed and immediately shakes his head. 

"No, Care. Absolutely not. I'm not letting you go there, not after what he did to you in Berlin; it's too dangerous." 

It's been so long since Berlin, so much has happened since then, an entire lifetime of events, but Caroline can't help the affection seeping in from Tyler's somewhat misplaced protectiveness. 

It's been quite a while since someone cared so much about her safety, so she covers his hand with hers again, rubbing gently this time. 

"It's sweet that you're concerned for me, Tyler, but your worry is better directed to someone else, like your lovely wife. How's she doing anyway?" 

The way Tyler's entire demeanor changes at the mention of his wife alights Caroline's heart with hope. For a long time, she worried that her ex-boyfriend would spend his eternity alone: a transient mentor to various packs all over the world while he ran from his demons. 

Then, a few decades back, he met a young wolf in one of his treks in the Rockies and suddenly, he didn't need to run anymore; had found the place where he belongs. 

Caroline knows that feeling all too well...except unlike Tyler, she’s running from it, convincing herself that she doesn't _need_ that, need _him_. Apparently, fate has other plans. 

"Emilia is great but don't change the subject. There's no way you're going to New Orleans, Caroline. At least not alone." 

She's always appreciated Tyler's ability to cut through the bullshit, but in the present, it's beginning to irritate her. They both know it's the right thing to do, Tyler just can't reconcile them needing the Originals' help with his hatred of the Big Bad. 

"Oh, but that's precisely why I am going, Tyler...alone." 

Tyler doesn't argue further, knows she's made up her mind, but he makes his displeasure evident by turning his gaze to the window. He doesn't remove his hand from hers though and Caroline smiles softly at the back of his head, realizing just how good it is to see him. 

_Her first love._

A part of her yearns to coax a smile out of him again so she tugs at his hand, forcing him to look back at her. 

"Don't worry, Ty, seriously. Knowing the Mikaelsons, now that they've won this war, they'll probably throw a ball or something and Klaus will be too high on power to think about killing me." 

Tyler merely rolls his eyes at this and looks away. Seconds later, Caroline detects the beginnings of a smile. 

It's enough to settle her nerves, enough to stave off the anxiety and excitement she feels about her impending destination. 

Fate really is a bitter bitch sometimes. 

xxx 

This is never more apparent to Caroline than when she pulls up to the Mikaelson mansion just outside of New Orleans barely a day later and finds a flurry of activity outside. 

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." She mutters to herself, shutting off the engine and getting out of the car.

No one pays attention to her as she crosses the expansive driveway, and the dozen or so heartbeats hammering away in her ears reveal the reason. 

Of course, the triumphant siblings would compel a bunch of humans to do the decorating for their grand re-entrance into New Orleans’ supernatural society. 

It's so predictable, Caroline nearly rolls her eyes, but as soon as she sets foot into the foyer, her throat runs a little dry. 

The bright, open space, with its extravagant decorations and the sprawling staircase unwillingly brings her back to another ball, at another Mikaelson mansion. She has to actively fight not to get lost in the past, in the memory tinged with beautiful silk, delicate flutes of champagne, and that smirk...those eyes. 

Snapping herself back to the present, Caroline confronts the possibility that this might be a colossally bad idea. Especially now that she realizes that apart from the whole compelling humans to do their bidding thing, she's okay with this celebration, is even a little excited and happy that the Original family was able to triumph over Marcel. 

Even if the fight was bloody and full of casualties.

The thought is like a dose of vervain, and she visibly flinches away from the revelation, mostly because she doesn't want to flush out the implications of it. She doesn’t have time to wonder what it says about her that she’s okay with accepting those means to an end. 

She's here for a purpose and must set her own feelings aside for Matt's sake. Shifting gears, Caroline stalks determinedly to the first room off of the foyer, grabbing the first bottle of champagne she sees along with two flutes arranged in an elegant tower.

Then she navigates her way through the multitude of rooms and hallways to the second floor, not once questioning either her destination or his presence at the end of her journey. She knows he's there, that he probably sensed her arrival when she was still a few miles up the road. The thought that he's waiting for her leaves her with a feeling of exhilaration she can't quite describe but knows she must control. 

Still, the fervor with which she moves would leave her breathless if she was human and Caroline takes a moment to compose herself before stepping through the threshold of the familiar room. 

Her first observation is that the crib is gone, replaced by an empty wooden easel that looks to be a simple placeholder, discarded there so the space doesn't seem empty. Her dead heart clenches, a moment of grief reserved for an unborn child and her mother, neither of whom truly deserved their fate. 

It’s enough to fully bring her to the present. She will not allow another child to be lost, to be killed for no greater purpose than to hurt and intimidate. 

A surge of anger and protectiveness for Matt's family grounds her, clears her mind. She's finally able to look at the lone occupant of the room, who doesn't seem at all disturbed by her presence...or her lack of greeting.

It should irritate her, but it's so typical; everything from the way he focuses on his sketchpad, to his relaxed posture, to the damn necklaces he can't seem to part with. 

It's all so familiar, so stable. 

Caroline has to acknowledge that she just spent six months hiking through some of the most dangerous terrain in the world, searching for peace and quiet, and in one moment, with his startling sameness, the most dangerous man in the world has given her exactly that. 

Regardless of how far she's come, this awareness still irritates her and she shoves it aside by default, not wanting to waste precious minutes delving into her own psyche, especially where Klaus is concerned. It's bound to throw her off kilter and she doesn't have time to piece herself back together. 

_Eliot_ doesn't have time. 

"So, I believe a congratulations is in order?" 

Klaus looks up at her then and his familiar smile, paired with the glint in his eyes, steals unnecessary breath away from her. 

"Hello Caroline." 

He holds her gaze for as long as she'll let him, penetrating as only he can be. Caroline has to actively ignore his greeting because the warmth she feels is easier to disguise with detachment. 

"I have to say, you Mikaelsons have a weird attachment to the 1920s. Why else would you make it the running theme of all your parties?" 

Klaus probably sees right through her but plays along, shutting his sketchpad and setting it aside as he stands to his full height. Caroline tries not to be distracted by his proximity as he takes the champagne bottle, but even her impeccable self control is no match for the reaction he elicits from her. 

She doesn’t understand this effect he has on her, even after all these years, but knows it has the potential to derail her plans, make her lose her head with the merest contact. 

"What can I say, love? It was one of the best decades I've lived through, all glitz and glamour. You would have loved it." 

"So I've been told." Caroline smirks, tone belying the rush through her veins at his allusion to the past, using almost the same words he did back then to draw her in, to _seduce_ her. 

The pop of the champagne cork jolts her, catapulting her yet again to the present and she hands Klaus the two pilfered flutes, hoping the bubbly spirit will ground her somewhat. 

"A toast to you and your triumphs then." Caroline suggests, ignoring how seamlessly they interact with one another, as if it hasn't been nearly 20 years since they saw each other last.

"Though I have to say," She continues, if only to fill the silence as Klaus pours two glasses. 

"I am a bit insulted that I didn't receive an invitation." 

It's meant to be a tease, a light jab at him, something to level their playing field, but the moment he speaks, Caroline knows she's screwed. 

"Well considering I don't actually have an address for you, it was a bit challenging to send an invitation. You'll have to forgive me." 

He holds her gaze meaningfully, reminding her of the promise of freedom he had given her; a token of his faith in her, trust that she would come find him when she was ready. 

Her stomach drops at the possibility that he has mistaken her arrival for permanence. She ignores the yearning that sparks at that thought…at how much she actually wants that. 

"But since you are," he interrupts her thoughts gently, voice dropping to a near whisper, "why don't you stay? After all, it would be quite unbecoming of you to leave the new King of New Orleans without a date at his very own inauguration." 

His whole being is positively alight with mischief and the pit in her belly grows, not only because the idea of attending this party with him feels so right, but also because the lightness and peace she saw in Sao Paulo has not diminished in the slightest. 

The blood of thousands is undoubtedly on his hands but it hasn't darkened his soul, not like before. 

And while that fills Caroline with an immeasurable amount of pride...and desire, she can't hide the dread rising within her simultaneously. 

She is here for a reason, to help Matt, to protect the children he was able to have. She has to do this before carving out her own happiness. She just hopes the man in front of her shares the same sentiment. 

"Actually, Klaus, I need your help."

xxx 

It's dusk by the time Caroline finishes explaining everything. They've since moved to the couch, trading the vintage champagne for something a bit stronger. 

The fireplace isn't lit, but Caroline still remembers the last time she was in this room. 

Stealing a glance at Klaus as he thinks silently, Caroline feels pride sink into her every pore. 

This man has been through hell and back since the last time she was here and although she isn't sure what it says about her that she's so unbelievably relieved and proud of his accomplishments, she smiles to herself as she waits.

Her phone vibrates from its place on the coffee table. The display flashing Tyler's number catches Klaus' attention and he turns to her for the first time in what feels like forever. Caroline isn't sure what she expects his reaction to be, but isn't prepared for his indifference as he takes a sip from his glass of blood.

"Are you going to answer that?" He asks, without a hint of jealousy. 

She feels like she's in an alternate universe...she figured if anyone could evoke the typical mood swings from Klaus, it would be Tyler. Except here's nothing but calmness there and she can tell that he's amused by her surprise.

"No."

"You should." He suggests, now focused on her. 

"Why?" She challenges.

He's acting like he knows something she doesn't and it aggravates her.

"Don't be stubborn, love. Knowing Tyler, he's about ready to call in his cavalry of pups to come rescue you from the Big Bad Wolf and I'd rather not have all the lovely decorations go to waste. Rebekah's wrath would be twice as burdensome to deal with as whatever army Mr. Lockwood plans to unleash to pry you out of danger."

Even with his slight mocking, Caroline can definitely see the logic in his words…and ultimately reaches for her phone. Klaus is right, there's no reason to worry Tyler any more than necessary, especially under the circumstances.

Strangely, he was the only one irritated by her decision to come here on her own and Caroline has to wonder how much of the time that Stefan spent with Klaus during his recovery impacted how the rest of her inner circle now perceives the Original Hybrid. 

At least in relation to her.

Once more, Caroline pushes these ruminations aside, typing out a quick message to Tyler before shoving her phone in her pocket so it doesn’t create a disturbance again.

"There, now he won't try to "rescue" me as though I'm some victim."

She fixes Klaus with a pointed stare then, intending to throw his words right back at him but the intensity of his gaze, though trained somewhere beyond her, sends an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"You know that's why you and Young Lockwood never worked out."

His words catch her off guard, but also pique her interest. It's been years - decades, really - since she's thought of Tyler in that capacity but the way Klaus sounds so assured and yet not arrogant at all pushes her to ask.

"Why?"

Her voice comes out softer than expected, less annoyed and more curious, as if she's actually interested in knowing his reasoning.

Klaus finally meets her eye then, blue-green orbs boring into her very soul as he leans in closer, fully aware of the effect he's having on her as his breath skirts her cheek. Caroline doesn't back down though; it's never been in her nature to submit.

"He never could quite figure out when you were in need of rescuing and when you needed to fight for yourself."

Then he's looking at her like he's the only one who has in fact figured it out and it irks her in that familiar way that his words used to when she first met him. The thrill returns; the feeling of danger sparking a fire. Her defenses melt away as she sees the same flair reflected in Klaus' face.

Before either of them can do something about it though, (and he looks like he has every intention of doing something Caroline is sure she would enjoy very much) a voice cuts through the tension in the room, tearing her away from temptation.

"As much as I appreciate your fondness for vintage bubbly, Caroline," Rebekah Mikaelson flashes into the room, a perfect mess of blond curls and spiky heels. Grabbing the pilfered Rose Brut off the end table, she takes a healthy swig from the bottle. 

"I believe we have a party to host and an annoyingly inquisitive boy to find, so I am going to cut this reunion short, at least until we can get you into something a bit more...appropriate." She scrunches up her nose as she takes in Caroline's casual outfit. 

The latter would smile if she wasn't still winded from the Original’s unexpected arrival.

Then Rebekah’s words finally hit her and Caroline frowns, looking between the two siblings with mild irritation.

"If you think I'm staying for this "party," you are mistaken. I don't have time, Eliot doesn't-..."

"Eliot needs a witch, love, a very powerful, unbiased witch that owes me a favor." Klaus interrupts her and she's almost ready to fight him again, but his gentleness and obvious understanding deters her.

"It'll take me at least a night to track her down, but it will be worth it, I assure you." He adds. The accompanying flicker of vulnerability, paired with the way he carefully places his hand atop her knee, leaves her undead heart beating at an unnatural rate.

Klaus actually cares about this, cares about them succeeding...and while the revelation on its own is pretty damn shocking, Caroline diverts her attention to Rebekah. The latter’s impatience is evident, even without her incessant stiletto tapping.

Quickly Caroline realizes the other blonde is somehow invested in this, and so she really has no choice but to agree. One Mikaelson, she can handle…but two and she’s outnumbered. 

"Fine, I'll go tonight, but on two conditions."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." Klaus quickly cuts in, grin bordering on inappropriate. 

Rebekah immediately scoffs at this, which Caroline finds infinitely amusing. Somehow, this typical sibling interaction makes her think that everything will be okay, that they will find a witch who will then find Eliot and they will rescue him.

After all, how can they fail with the Originals on their side?

As faulty as her logic may be, Caroline chooses to be positive in the moment. 

"One: as soon as you locate the witch, you let me know. No delays, no denials, no nothing."

"Done." Klaus nods his head, obviously slightly annoyed that she would think he would do that in such a precarious situation, but Caroline pushes on, relying on her instincts.

"And two," She points her finger at him, "no more surprise gifts in the form of lavish ball gowns, I will find something to wear on my own, okay?"

His delight is nearly contagious but Caroline fights to keep her resolve, even when it’s so difficult to do. Before Klaus can agree to her terms, however, Rebekah's patience apparently runs out because Caroline suddenly feels herself pulled to her feet by the older vampire.

"Okay, okay. He bloody agrees!" Rebekah exclaims, gripping Caroline tightly by her elbow. 

"Besides, everyone knows my closet is way more extravagant than Nik’s." She calls over her shoulder teasingly and Caroline barely has a moment to throw an apologetic look at Klaus before his sister flashes them out of the room.

xxx 

Hours later, Caroline stands alone in one of the bedrooms in Rebekah’s quarters, admiring her reflection in the full-length mirror. 

The turquoise of the dress brings out the blue of her eyes and makes her skin glow translucent. Though she’s done the whole 1920s look before, there’s something incredibly alluring about the woman staring back at her and Caroline realizes very quickly that it’s been a long time since she’s been in touch with her femininity. 

A long time since she’s thought of herself as someone appealing. 

The power of this revelation sends a thrill through her entire body.

“Just like I thought.” Rebekah’s voice flows smooth like honey from the doorway, “my poor brother won’t be able to keep his hands off you.” 

Caroline doesn’t reply to that. Instead, she turns to take in Rebekah as she leans casually against the wall. 

The older vampire looks magnificent as always, dark burgundy dress seemingly moving with her as she walks into the room.

“I hope you know I’m coming with you.” 

For a second, Caroline isn’t sure what the other blonde is referring to, but when it hits her, she’s slightly speechless and Rebekah takes pity on her. 

“Despite what you and the Scooby gang think of me, which is perhaps some of Niklaus’ doing, I don’t just fall in love with anyone and Matt was once very important to me, if briefly so. Besides it’s never a bad thing to have an immortal on your side in these situations.” 

And Caroline can’t argue with that. If anything, Rebekah will be an asset. One who has no alternate agenda and cannot be killed. Seeing the flicker of anguish in the other woman’s eye only confirms what Caroline already knows: Rebekah will stop at nothing to find Matt’s grandson. 

Caroline instantly feels a kinship with the blonde, one she has only ever felt with Elena and Bonnie. She knows it goes beyond just their shared love for the same small town boy. 

Somewhere along the way, she and Rebekah became friends, bonded even through the distance. Caroline has always somehow known she can trust the Original, which isn’t something she can say about many people these days. 

For that reason, she doesn’t protest Rebekah’s decision, giving her an understanding smile to confirm it. 

“Well in that case, let’s make the most of tonight, before we go kick some supernatural ass.” 

If possible, Rebekah’s face lights up at Caroline’s words and she nods enthusiastically. Looping her arm around Caroline’s, the older vampire guides her out of the room. 

“Come on then. I’ll show you where we keep the good stuff.”

xxx 

She feels his eyes on her the moment she enters the lavish ballroom. 

The jazz band is playing a raucous tune and there are a million voices all around her, but all of that fades away when she feels his searing gaze. 

Like a beacon, it calls to her, drawing her eyes to him until she spots him across the room. Rebekah chooses that moment to disappear into the crowd but Caroline registers nothing of it, focus intent on Klaus as he stands by the bar smiling appreciatively at her. 

Caroline is just about to make her way to him when a feather-like touch on her shoulder halts her. 

“Miss Forbes, may I have this dance?” 

She immediately turns around to the source of the smooth, velvety voice. 

“Elijah.” She breathes out, a wide smile breaking out on her face at the sight of the elder Mikealson. 

He looks as regal and poised as ever, gentle dark eyes warm and reserved as she accepts his hand, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. The music conveniently slows down. 

“It’s good to see you.” She admits a moment later, lamenting how long it’s been since they’ve crossed paths. 

Aside from her last trip to New Orleans, she had seen Elijah a handful of times over the years. However, those encounters were usually accidental and brief; nothing more than a shared bottle of wine or coffee when they ran into each other. 

Although these meetings happened when Elijah was traveling through Europe, seeking reinforcements for their fight against Marcel, Caroline never asked about Klaus or what was happening in Louisiana. 

Elijah never offered any information either. Instead, they exchanged stories of their travels, Elijah always spinning tales about the changes her favorite cities had undergone throughout the centuries. If there was something all Mikaelsons had in common, it was their ability to tell a good story. 

Caroline knows, however, that this particular exchange will not be so light, not with how intently Elijah is looking at her. 

“It’s good to see you too, Caroline. Though I wish it were under different circumstances.” 

Caroline ducks her head immediately, choosing to focus on the nonexistent speck of dust on his immaculate tuxedo.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ve been informed of the reason I am here.” She replies softly. 

Elijah must sense her mood shift because he tightens his grasp on her, just enough to comfort, reassure.

“There should be no cause for concern, sweet Caroline. My brother is already making good on his promise. Davina is on her way and she will be in New Orleans by sunrise, I imagine.” 

At that, Caroline looks up sharply, surprise and relief no doubt reflected in her eyes as she searches Elijah’s gaze for confirmation. 

“It’s true.” He nods, “And more so, I can attest to the fact that Niklaus never once dispatched any of his lackeys to follow you. He never once asked me how you were or where you were, even though it took every ounce of resolve he had.”

Caroline feels herself grow annoyed, wondering why Elijah has chosen to divulge all this when he knows she cannot be distracted. She means to ask him but he isn’t finished and his demeanor tells her so. 

“But never doubt, Caroline, that you were one of the few anchors my brother held onto during this entire bloody mess with Marcel, and that it was killing him not to know that you were safe. Yet he did it to respect your wishes, even though he’s anything but patient with people, especially the ones he cares about. So I implore you.”

He pauses mid-thought, forcing her to look him in the eye despite her desire not to.

“No, I beg you, Caroline. Once this situation with Matt Donovan’s grandson is resolved, regardless of the outcome, stop running. Stop running away from Niklaus, from a chance at family, and happiness. But more importantly stop punishing yourself with loneliness.” 

Her throat closes up as his words sink in. A distant part of her is angry with Elijah for being so forward. Mostly though, she knows he’s right. She has been running; running for so long, she isn’t sure what she sees when she looks over her shoulder anymore. 

It suddenly occurs to her that the nomadic lifestyle is so natural to her now, she doesn’t know anything else. Doesn’t know if she’s capable of putting down roots, accepting that she is worthy of love, of family, of attachments. 

Elijah squeezes her hand again, but she doesn’t react. 

She wants to vow that she will do as he says, but when her lips part, she isn’t sure she will say what he wants to hear.

Thankfully she doesn’t have to disappoint him, because a moment later, a familiar shiver halts her speech. 

“Dear brother, always eager to impress the most beautiful woman in the room with his dancing prowess. Mind if I cut in?” 

Klaus, appearing unexpectedly, turns out to be the calming force she needs. And though this only adds credence to Elijah’s words, Caroline has never been happier to see the other Original. 

Sensing this, Elijah glances at her apologetically before stepping back and allowing Klaus to take over. 

“Certainly, Niklaus. But you may have to step it up, especially with such a lovely partner.” 

“I think I’ll manage, Elijah.” Klaus replies coolly. 

The exchange prompts a smile from Caroline, but she’s still reeling from Elijah’s words. Klaus senses this immediately. One palm lands on her hip as the other runs up her back and around her neck. 

All pretense of jest is gone as he wills her to look at him, signaling that he has heard everything his brother told her.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? I am not sure what’s gotten into Elijah but I have no qualms about breaking his nose. Even if tonight is no place for brotherly brawls.” 

His palm finds its way to her cheek then and though Caroline leans into it, betraying how deeply affected she is, she shakes her head simultaneously. 

“No, no. No need for that. Let’s just try to enjoy the party, alright?” 

Klaus doesn’t say anything, jaw set and eyes warring with latent fury as he tightens his grip on her.

She lets her lips brush across the corner of his palm in a last stitch effort to pacify him and it seems to work. 

“Alright, love, alright.” He pulls her impossibly closer, lips caressing the shell of her ear as he speaks.

“But only because you asked and I can’t say no to you in that dress, or come to think of it, in anything else you may or may not wear.” 

His words are seduction and comfort interlaced, and Caroline fights the familiar ache rising somewhere deep inside her. 

“Just shut up and dance.” She mumbles into his shoulder, not ready to deal with any of it. 

The low chuckle caressing her ear reverberates through her entire body as they begin to sway to the music. 

xxx

Davina arrives much earlier than sunrise. 

A mess of black tresses and dainty limbs, she barrels into Klaus’ study sometime after midnight, pulling the hybrid into such a tight hug, Caroline think he might actually feel slightly suffocated, if possible. 

His affection for the girl is, however, unmistakable. Klaus greets her intently, eyes checking her for any sign of injury or unnatural change, before asking her how she’s been. 

Davina enthusiastically fills him in on her whereabouts; reveling in the attention Klaus is giving her. Objectively, Caroline thinks she should be jealous, but she’s feeling no such thing.

She’s fuzzy on the details but knows that Davina is one of the most powerful witches the supernatural community has ever seen. She was also an integral player in Klaus’ fight against Marcel. 

Outside of that, however, Caroline isn’t sure how the witch came to be on the Originals’ side or why she will eternally be trapped in the body of a fifteen year old. 

More importantly, Caroline doesn’t care. As long as Klaus can deliver on his promise and Davina can perform the locator spell needed to find Eliot, Caroline is not concerned with Davina’s existence. Maybe except that Klaus looks at her like the child he never had. 

Lost in her observation, Caroline barely hears Klaus explain the situation to Davina until the girl’s wary eyes shift to her. Caroline is immediately confronted by the depth of wisdom and understanding reflected in the dark orbs staring at her in curiosity. 

Taking a step forward, Caroline decides to introduce herself. 

“I’m Caroline.” 

“I know who you are.” Davina nods curtly, gazing at Klaus momentarily, and Caroline swears she sees a surge of protectiveness wash over the girl. 

Even though she is slightly annoyed that everyone around her seems to think she’s out to hurt the Original, Caroline can’t help feeling elated. It’s evident that Klaus is surrounded by people who love him and want to protect him. 

The knowledge spurs her into action, reminding her that the faster Davina can work her magic, the faster they can find Eliot, and the faster Caroline can start to deal with her own issues so she can be one of those people. 

Klaus seems to sense the change in her and steps forward, fingers grazing the small of her back as he breaks hers and Davina’s staring contest. 

“Good, then we can cut through the unnecessary pleasantries and get to work.” He suggests, eyes sternly fixing on Davina, as if to remind her that she has no place trying to intimidate Caroline. 

His influence over the girl is apparent and Davina finally tears her eyes away from Caroline, who decides that when all of this is over, she would love to learn how Klaus created such a paternal bond with the child witch. 

“Yes. I will need something of the boy’s.” Davina stubbornly addresses Klaus, but Caroline lets it go, acting above her desire to teach the adolescent some respect. 

“I have a vial of his mother’s blood and an old t-shirt.” She offers instead, turning to the end table where the prepared items sit. 

“That’ll do.” Davina concurs, taking off her jacket and tearing a sheet of paper from Klaus’ discarded sketchpad. 

Caroline hands her the items and walks back to where Klaus is standing, watching as the witchy prodigy settles into his chair and places the items on her lap. 

“Doesn’t she need a map or something?” Caroline asks Klaus, recalling times when she’s witnessed witches perform locator spells in the past, particularly Bonnie. 

Klaus takes advantage of their proximity and snakes his arm around her, settling it low on her hip. 

“Davina isn’t just any witch, love. She is a supernatural anomaly. Just watch.” He instructs softly.

Caroline obliges, watching as Davina uncorks the vial of blood, inhaling and closing her eyes as she chants. 

In a few moments, she begins to write something that looks like an address on the piece of paper.

“My God,” Caroline muses absentmindedly, “it’s like having your very own Ouija board.” 

Klaus’ resounding chuckle makes her look over her shoulder at him and the amusement in his eye gives way to something that can only be described as adoration. 

She wants to grab onto this moment and never let go. Let the intensity of his feelings for her overwhelm her in the sweetest way possible. Her hands twitch at her sides, eager to reach out and touch him; close whatever little space there is between them and to hell with the rest of the world. 

But it’s not that simple and this is never more apparent to Caroline then when Davina breaks the moment, pressing the folded sheet of paper into Caroline’s side. 

“You’ll find him at that address. I felt him. He’s not currently in pain but that may be because he is heavily sedated or unconscious. Either way he’s still alive. Now, from what I hear, there is a party downstairs so if you’ll excuse me. Niklaus, you will come find me when you are done here?” 

Caroline barely reacts to Davina’s flippancy, rather focused on the new information about Eliot. However, she can feel Klaus simmering besides her as he fixes Davina with a disapproving look. 

Before he can say anything though, Caroline places a firm hand on his shoulder, saddened for the girl, rather than offended. It’s clear that Davina has experienced share of heartbreak and horror, leaving her immune to this kind of thing and it’s a pity. 

“Go, I will find you later.” Klaus instructs the girl before directing his attention to Caroline in such a way that makes it clear to Davina that her presence is no longer welcome. 

To her credit, the witch knows when to follow orders and disappears just as quickly as she came. For long moments after, Caroline can still hear her, heartbeat loud and distinct, until it falls in sync with the hundreds or so downstairs. 

“Caroline,” Klaus’ surprisingly unsure voice lulls her back to the present. Instinctively, she fists the piece of paper in her hand as she wills herself to refocus. 

“I’m alright,” She smiles gently, answering his unspoken inquiry, but she can tell he doesn’t believe her. 

“Go get your things together,” he suggests softly, “I’ll find Rebekah and make travel arrangements for you both.”

It’s only then that Caroline realizes she doesn’t even know where they’re going and immediately unravels the sheet of paper. 

New York. 

Eliot is in New York. 

And they’re going to find him. 

The knowledge reinvigorates her and Caroline nods at Klaus meaningfully, “I’ll be in my room. Come find me.” 

Then she flashes out of his study. 

xxx

She’s just about to take off the loaned necklace, the last piece of her costume, when she feels the subtle gust of wind behind her. 

“Keep it.” 

His voice is velvety soft against her shoulder and Caroline tries to betray nothing of his effect on her when their eyes meet in the vanity mirror. For a moment, she contemplates keeping the jewelry. After all, it is a beautiful piece; a delicate silver chain dotted with circular crystals, all in varying shades of blue that meet in the middle with a diamond shaped sapphire framed in silver. 

But then the fantasy fades as she spots her duffel bag by the bed. 

“I don’t think Rebekah would like that very much.” She concedes with a half smirk, carefully unclasping the necklace and setting it down on the vanity. 

“It’s actually from my collection, so my dear sister has no say.” 

Caroline turns around then, eyebrow quirked in slight disbelief. 

Klaus just shrugs at her, arms clasped behind his back as he gives her a sliver of space, but not much.

“It’s true, love. I purchased it from a French jeweler friend of mine for a mademoiselle I happened to take an interest in; circa late 1700s, I believe. But sadly she was killed during one of the early revolutionary uprisings and I never had the chance to give it to her. Now that I’ve seen you in it, I’m glad she never got a chance to wear it.” 

His eyes fix on her again, something dark and stormy brewing in them, and Caroline literally has to blink to snap herself out of the hold he has on her. 

It’s incredibly frustrating how her grip on control is so tenuous around him, but the thrill that runs through her is also addictive. She can’t help tilting her head just slightly, playful smirk on her lips. 

“Even if I did believe you, I thought I made it clear. No extravagant gifts from you, remember?” 

Klaus smiles widely at this, as if he knows something she doesn’t, and merely leans towards her. He doesn’t say anything but Caroline inhales sharply out of habit. All this does is muddle her brain even more as his distinct scent invades the air around her. It’s exactly as she remembers, the hint of musk, something earthy, and a faint trace of cologne. 

The urge to kiss him nearly overpowers her. 

It’s hard to resist even when she realizes he’s reaching behind her to wrap the necklace in its cloth, if for no other reason. He’s still so close, she can make out the constellation of birthmarks on the side of his neck and it forces her to slide away from him, lest she do something she will regret. 

Klaus looks at her sharply, knowingly, cataloguing her movements and inevitably isolating the impetus for it. But he stays silent, despite the subtle clenching of his jaw. Instead, he tugs at her wrist and places the necklace into her open palm. 

“Take it.” He says sternly and it occurs to her that the momentary coldness in his eyes is merely a cover. A well-worn ruse meant to conceal the fear and disappointment he feels at her departure. 

Her heart twists painfully as she bites the inside of her cheek to stave off the guilt. She takes the necklace with a nod and for a moment contemplates whether she should say something or not. 

But Klaus, yet again, saves her from digging a hole for herself and speaks first. 

“My brother may have lacked tact this evening but he wasn’t wrong.” 

Her stomach tightens in anticipation as she watches his expression change again. The coldness melts away, leaving him naked and exposed in front of her in all his frustrated and fiery glory. It’s the Klaus she had been expecting to see; that impatient, volatile, temperamental man who can both aggravate and arouse her simultaneously has finally arrived. 

She doesn’t even blink when he leans forward, trapping her against the vanity with an arm on either side as he bridges the proximity between them. 

“I’m not a patient man, Caroline. I never have been, even when I was human, and I know letting you go for the last two decades was the right thing to do, both for your safety and your peace of mind.”

He pauses, watching her with a fiery determination that heats her from the inside. 

“I know you have an obligation to retrieve the Donovan boy, and while letting you out of my sight is the last thing I want to do, I understand. I understand why you have to go, Caroline but I am warning you, next time I see you, I will not be so understanding.”

He reaches for her cheek, gentle despite his stern warning. 

“I’m done being patient. I’m done letting you leave. And I felt that you should know this, so that next time we meet, there are no misconceptions, no doubts or questions about what I want.” 

The way he says this, his voice wrapping around the words like silk, leaves absolutely no uncertainty about exactly what he wants and Caroline shivers involuntarily. He stands absolutely still before her, warm breath skirting her lips as he waits very patiently for her reply. 

She knows she should say something, but her mind isn’t cooperating. Instead, she traces a mental path across his face, taking in his darkened blue gaze, sharp cheekbones, stubbled jaw, and pausing at his lips. 

The way he purses them together doesn’t take away from their fullness; their deep red tint still as tempting as ever and Caroline unconsciously bites her own as she fixates on his mouth. 

Her eyes momentarily flicker to his before falling back down, realizing that they’re at a standstill, and despite the speech about his impatience and his desires, Caroline knows he will not give in, will not make the first move… 

“Oh hell…” she mutters to no one in particular before finally taking what _she_ wants. 

The first press of her lips against his seems to unleash something within him and not a second later, Caroline feels herself lifted off the ground and pushed onto the vanity. 

Empowered by her own boldness, she kisses him furiously, with abandon, getting lost in the sensation of his tongue sliding expertly around hers as she wraps her entire body around him. 

All urgency to leave disappears as Klaus wastes no time on modesty and immediately slides his palms under her t-shirt. Talented fingers dance across her bare back and she arches into him, breasts molding against his hard chest in an effort to alleviate some of the tension building inside her. 

A distant part of her mind, the last rational piece of her psyche acknowledges that this is exactly what she did not want to happen, but it’s not enough to overpower the sensations awakening within her. 

It’s more than just the physical pleasure that’s numbing her self-control, but rather the feelings that accompany it that threaten to disarm her completely. 

It’s as if initiating the kiss has left her wide open, forcing her to actually confront her feelings instead of running from them. And now that she’s here, in this moment, allowing herself to actually give in, Caroline thinks there’s no other place she’d rather be. 

Somehow this only spurs her further, fingers pulling at the base of Klaus’ curls as she tears her mouth away from his lips. She traces a heated path down his throat, tongue tracing the small collection of birthmarks she couldn’t look away from before. 

In all her decades as part of the undead, Caroline never thought there would be a more delicious and dangerous yearning than bloodlust, but that was before…before she’s gotten a taste of his skin. 

She’s so consumed by her exploration, she doesn’t even realize one of his hands has changed direction until it slips inside her bra; a curious touch against the swell of her breast. 

Caroline acts on instinct and flashes them to the bed; not giving either of them a moment of respite as she resumes kissing him, blond hair falling like a curtain around them. 

Klaus uses their new position to his advantage and slides his entire hand beneath her bra, thumb brushing purposefully over her nipple. The subsequent jolt of pleasure causes her to break away from him; their eyes meet. 

It’s only a brief pause but a sense of understanding passes silently between them and Caroline indulges herself in one more kiss before separating completely. The emptiness that replaces his hands on her body leaves a lump in her throat but she pushes it down, refusing to focus on how much it hurts to move away from him. 

Klaus doesn’t try to fight her on this, but he also doesn’t hide his displeasure. He does give her space to gather herself, retreating to the small liquor cabinet in the corner of the room while she checks her make-up in the mirror. 

As she watches her reflection, Caroline realizes she can’t hide behind circumstances anymore. She can’t use Eliot’s disappearance as an excuse to conceal her true emotions. Mind made up, she turns around, words already at the tip of her tongue when Klaus flashes in front of her.

“Don’t say anything you’re not ready to truly admit.” He cautions softly, entire demeanor betraying his desire to touch her. Caroline admires his restraint, because she feels the pull as well. 

She shakes her head at him as she marvels at how well he knows her. How easily he can anticipate her next action, even though their entire interaction in the last eighty years can be summed up in just a few encounters. 

“You have got to stop doing that,” she warns him ruefully, placing a careful palm on his chest. 

Klaus smirks in turn, grasping said hand in his and running his lips over her knuckles. 

“I can’t, love.” He shrugs, eyes returning to their playful glint. “It’s as natural as craving blood for me.” 

Caroline stares at him with wide eyes, admiring both his continued honesty and the depth of his apparent feelings. She hopes he will interject shortly, because she doesn’t know what to say. This time, they are conveniently interrupted. 

“Caroline,” Elijah catches their attention from the doorway, eyes flickering momentarily to their proximity before focusing solely on her. 

“The car is ready for you, and Rebekah is waiting downstairs, quite impatiently I might add.” 

“Thank you, brother. She’ll be right there.” Klaus answers for her with a clenched jaw, gaze not veering away from her face. 

Clearly he’s still upset with Elijah but Caroline won’t let the older Mikaelson leave without a smile and a nod – indication that she doesn’t share Klaus’s anger. 

“I have to go.” She whispers, but makes no move to pull herself away.

Klaus doesn’t seem to be in a rush to let her go either. A few seconds pass, however, and he finally drops her wrist, in favor of retrieving a small card from the inside of his suit jacket. 

His face is serious again as he slides it into her back pocket. 

“A friend I trust in New York City; that’s his card.” 

He doesn’t specify whether this friend is of the human or supernatural variety but Caroline doesn’t question it. 

“If anything goes wrong, and I mean anything, call him. He’ll know what to do.” 

She doesn’t even want to think about what could possibly go so terribly wrong that she’d have to reach out to a stranger to bail her out of trouble, especially with Rebekah by her side. But if there’s anything she’s learned over the years, it’s that anything can happen so she merely nods, accepting his preemptive help without debate. 

“Thank you…for everything.” 

He nods mutely, retrieving her duffel bag and handing it to her. He doesn’t try to kiss her or even touch her, perhaps to preserve his tenuous grip on self-control or because it might be too painful.

Either way, Caroline is grateful, knowing she cannot afford any more distraction, despite how good it feels. If anything, for the first time her mind is fully clear since arriving at the Mikaelson mansion that morning and she grabs onto this clarity, drawing as much strength from it as she can. 

_Especially_ when she’s leaving.

It’s only when she’s at the doorway that Caroline realizes that he won’t be escorting her out. Though she thinks her heart might actually crack if she chances a glance at him, she does so anyway. She owes him that and much more. 

Despite his smile, Caroline knows he’s struggling but words seem superfluous at this moment. So she takes him in one last time, committing the vision of him disheveled in his tuxedo to memory before walking out of the room. 

In the years to come, she will wish that she had kissed him one more time. 

xxx


	5. Early July 2097

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing here, Klaus?” She snaps at him instead, turning on her heel to face him down. 
> 
> “Aside from the fact that I missed you terribly-…” he tries for levity but Caroline feels her patience thin. 
> 
> “This is so not the time for jokes.” She cuts him off.
> 
> “What makes you think it’s a joke, darling? I haven’t seen in you in far too long for me to be anything but serious.” His voice drops an octave, underscoring his candor. 
> 
> The realization doesn’t so much bother her as it gives her hope…hope that he really did seek her out because he missed her, not because he wanted her to pay for what she did. 
> 
> It’s unsettling how deeply their roles have reversed. How she now has to wonder whether Klaus finds her capable of being saved instead of the other way around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2014 to all! I hope the year is full of love, joy, and happiness for you dear readers. Apologies for such a delay in posting this part but it’s finally here and I broke my own promise not to go over 10k per chapter by only about 500 words so here’s to meeting New Year’s resolutions! Anyway, I could only manage this by splitting this part into two chapters, which means the story is now seven parts instead of six. The next installment will take place immediately following this one with no time jump. I’ve aptly titled the next part Late July 2097. Yes I’m that witty. Huge thanks to all who read, review, favorite, or simply enjoy popping in here once in a while and perusing. You guys make it all worth it, as does my lovely editor, Cathy. Hope you enjoy this!

xxx

_“I demolish my bridges behind me...then there is no choice but to move forward”  
― Fridtjof Nansen (Norwegian Explorer)_

xxx 

 

**_Early July 2097_ **

**Paris**

The first day Caroline wakes up without having a nightmare, it’s a balmy Tuesday afternoon. She doesn’t remember much from the night before, having gone on a bender with some of her schoolmates from Les Ateliers, where she is in her final semester of a textile apprenticeship. 

She shoots out of bed, stepping over the rolls of design fabric and other material strewn across her studio and onto the tiny balcony overlooking the Left Bank. 

Not even the dull ache at the base of her neck can stave off her excitement. Even though one night of dreamless sleep means nothing to a vampire, the significance of not waking up shaking from whatever images her subconscious chooses to torture her with throughout the night is huge. 

Resting her elbows on the rickety railing, Caroline inhales the unique scent of the city, picking up distinct fragrances from all over: freshly baked goods and coffee from the cafe two blocks away, magnolias from a garden around the corner, and fresh paint from the art school next door. 

The city is both still and pulsating at the same time; a light breeze cuts through the humidity and twirls her curls just slightly. The perfect dichotomy is what attracted her to Paris in the first place and caused her to settle down here after the arduous decade she spent traveling. 

She will miss this city, but it’s time. She promised herself that she would not hesitate once the timing was right, once she was starting to feel like herself again, and never one to break a vow, especially one to herself, Caroline knows what she must do. 

There are loose ends to tie up of course, like her lease and overdue library books (yes…she still checks out books, even though with the latest technological advances, you can practically imprint the entire collection of Jane Austen novels onto your brain in a matter of seconds.) 

But Caroline decides that it can all wait until tomorrow, because today is her last day in Paris and she’s going to soak up every minute of it.

Returning inside, she bypasses the mess on the floor and walks to the bathroom. A glance at the clock above her bed reminds her that she slept through most of the daylight hours and she hightails it to the shower, not planning to waste any more time. 

xxx 

She spends the day playing tourist. 

She walks through her favorite hallways at the Louvre, stands in front of one painting at Musée D’Orsay for long enough that the guards get suspicious, buys a baguette from a street vendor on the Champs-Elysées, and walks the left span of the Seine all the way to the Notre Dame. 

Her last stop is Montmartre, where she hikes up to the Basilica and barely has any time to catch her breath before the last vestiges of the sunset capture her attention. 

This is how she intends to remember Paris: a brilliant mix of old and new, framed by the purest turn of nature, a beautiful shade of orange and red blanketing the city for a few precious moments. 

Standing atop this hill, surrounded by dozens of people all enamored by the same beauty, Caroline can almost believe that everything will be okay, that she won’t be vilified for her mistakes by those she loves upon her return. 

That they won’t think her a coward like she has thought of herself for years. 

Committing the panoramic view to memory, she decides that it’s time to return to her studio and make arrangements for her departure. 

Remembering how winded she got hiking up to the Basilica, Caroline makes her way home through the 10th district, knowing there is a veterinary clinic tucked away in one of the streets where she can compel herself some dinner. 

It’s no longer even a choice between human and animal blood…not since New York, not since the atrocities she was forced to participate in against her will. 

The taste of human blood is so foreign to her, Caroline wonders if she would gag from a drop now…though considering how quickly Stefan fell into old habits all those years ago in Mystic Falls, she knows if she touches it again, she won’t stop. That alone prevents her from even considering raiding a hospital. 

The vet serves its purpose just fine and Caroline wanders the streets back to her apartment in a satiated daze, enjoying the vigor and slight euphoria that comes with the borrowed blood running through her veins. 

It is perhaps this state of mind that makes her careless, unaware as she opens the door to her apartment. It’s only when she’s inside, leaning against the door with her eyes closed, enjoying the silence that she picks up on the shift in the air. 

Goosebumps spread across her bare arms and chest as she reluctantly opens her eyes, gaze zeroed in on the armchair in the corner of her room. Despite being shrouded in darkness, Caroline can tell that the armchair is clearly occupied and heat rises suddenly within her. 

She can hear his breathing, it’s measured and even, his seated posture is relaxed, left leg crossed at the ankle, resting on the opposite thigh as he reclines against the red velvet upholstery. 

All in all, he looks like the picture of royalty, imposition, someone you basically don’t want to fuck with. The fact that she can’t see his face, search his eyes to figure out whether he’s here to take her away or more realistically punish her for her major fuck ups makes Caroline unduly nervous. 

Still, however terrifying and unexpected this situation is, she refuses to back down without a fight. Her fists curl imperceptibly at her sides as she glances very briefly to the open balcony doors, calculating her distance to freedom…as if she stands a chance. 

“Going somewhere?” His smooth voice cuts through the tense silence, and for a moment, Caroline feels a fear that nearly rattles her bones; thinking he has already figured out her plans before she was able to execute them. 

It’s only when the Original rises and nods towards the two suitcases sitting by her bed that Caroline realizes what he means. 

A part of her wants to fire back, tell him it’s none of his business but one glance at him and she feels her defenses melt away. 

It’s absolutely the reverse of their last encounter, when she sought him out for no other purpose than for his vast supernatural connections…when they were in the calm before the storm. 

How she has wished that she had given in that time because after what she has done; after everything, she can’t imagine that their future exists…that he’s still willing to spend eternity with her. 

If possible, now that the opportunity seems nonexistent, she craves it even more…craves him even more, especially now that he’s here in front of her…looking as seductive and imposing as ever. 

He commands attention and she gives it to him, looking him squarely in the eye. Her mouth runs dry at the sight of unbridled desire but she shakes away the distracting warmth.

He probably hates her but its good to know that she’s not the only one affected by their meeting, that even though _he_ sought _her_ out, he isn’t completely without feeling. 

Maybe, she could use that to her advantage…lure him into a false sense of security with her womanly wiles before making her escape. 

Even as she thinks this, Caroline is aware of how ludicrous it is. Even if she could, she would never play the blonde distraction again. 

Too much has happened between them for her to ever disrespect him like that again. 

She leans her head back against the door with eyes closed, adrenaline giving way to a latent exhaustion, her trusty companion as of late.

She feels him take a few steps closer. 

She imagines he looks determined and a little concerned as he utters her name, in a way that immediately takes her back to every single encounter they have had since Mystic Falls. 

Without the sight of him distracting her, she is able to think clearly, logically, and realizes that even if he did seek her out to kill her, he would have done it already. 

He may be the most powerful creature on earth but she’s his crutch so her death at his hands would have been swift and painless. He would probably snap her neck. 

Thus, whatever punishment he plans to dish out, she can take it, she deserves it after all. As long as she stays alive, that’s all she cares about. 

Upon seeing Klaus’ concern, she decides quite triumphantly that this is a goal they still share. 

“It’s good to see you.” She lets slip, and his stance immediately softens, as if he were nervous. 

Caroline digs her nails into her palms to prevent from reaching out to him. 

“You have no idea.” He exhales almost reverently, eyes roaming her face as if looking for any sign of injury; it makes Caroline uncomfortable. She slips away, moving past him into the kitchen. 

His admission along with his demeanor is too much a reminder of things she craves but will never have, things she has royally screwed up. Even if he still seems to want her just as much as she wants him, she can’t imagine him forgiving her.

At the thought of her past actions, hot shame rushes through her and she turns away from him, busying herself with clearing the pile of fabrics strewn across her kitchen counter. 

Klaus seems unperturbed by this, but she feels him advance behind her, keeping a safe distance while reminding her that she can’t run away from him, away from this confrontation. 

His quiet persistence is so different from the approach of the volatile man she first met nearly a century ago and it fills her with insurmountable pride. 

Knowing that she at least played a part in shaping the Big Bad into the man he was always capable of being, into the man he would have become if he hadn’t died. 

It doesn’t take away from the guilt but it makes her feel accomplished in a way that she hasn’t felt since she returned Eliot Donovan to his family fifteen years ago. 

The thought of Matt’s grandson drains all her happiness away, leaving only the hot sting of betrayal and remorse. How can Klaus forgive her for what she did? Why is she still alive? Why hasn’t he just snapped her neck already and put her out of her misery?

_Because he’s still in love with you, you bloody fool_ a little voice that sounds remarkably like Rebekah Mikaelson chimes in her head but Caroline pushes it aside. 

“What are you doing here, Klaus?” She snaps at him instead, turning on her heel to face him down. 

If he is put off by her change in attitude, Klaus doesn’t show it. Instead, he seems to relax further, now leaning against the edge of her bed as he crosses his arms, a half smirk on his face. 

“Aside from the fact that I missed you terribly-…” he tries for levity but Caroline feels her patience thin. 

“This is so not the time for jokes.” She cuts him off, eyes narrowed now as she braces herself against the kitchen island. 

The bastard has the nerve to laugh, a low chuckle as he stretches his arms behind his back, then steps up to the kitchen, leaning on the opposite side of the counter casually, as if they’re old friends catching up. 

“What makes you think it’s a joke, darling? I haven’t seen in you in far too long for me to be anything but serious.” His voice drops an octave, underscoring his candor. 

The realization doesn’t so much bother her as it gives her hope…hope that he really did seek her out because he missed her, not because he wanted her to pay for what she did to his sister. 

Looking at him, only the counter separating them, Caroline acknowledges the overdramatized thoughts running through her mind; of course, Klaus isn’t here to kill her, she’s already confirmed this, but the alternative is far too painful to consider.

It’s unsettling how deeply their roles have reversed. How she now has to wonder whether Klaus finds her capable of being saved instead of the other way around. 

There’s also a sense of irony here and she lets out an involuntary laugh, shaking her head to herself. 

“What’s so amusing, love?” 

“It’s just funny, that’s all.” She replies back, fulfilling her sudden urge to be honest with him. 

Klaus looks confused and she finds it adorable in spite of herself.

She procures the half empty bottle of Bordeaux from the back of her empty cupboard and finds two mismatched wine glasses, dividing the remaining amount between them. 

She slides one towards him and Klaus accepts it, watching her critically as he takes a sip. 

“Care to elaborate now, sweetheart?” He pushes with just a hint of impatience. 

Caroline has to hand it to him. The Klaus who first arrived in Mystic Falls would have just compelled her feelings out of her instead of patiently waiting for her to open up. 

“You being here, seeking me out like this, after all this time. There’s just a bit of irony here, isn’t there? Given that when we saw each other last you warned me that next time you wouldn’t let me go and I-…”

She’s fully aware now that she’s rambling and that it’s quite pathetic that she still remembers what he said that night and that she really has no place to hope that…

But before she can even _ask_ him, Klaus is in front of her, warm palm cupping her cheek as he gazes intensely into her eyes. 

She can’t look away, regardless of how hard she tries. His stare is as captivating as ever and in it linger layers and layers of… _yearning, devotion?_

And there she sees everything that leaves her utterly terrified. He doesn’t have to say anything for her to understand that he is forever ruined, that this hold she has on him trumps everything else, including his ties to his family. 

The wave of nausea is unexpected and unwelcome but Caroline doesn’t fight it, considering it her penance. Tears sting the corner of her eyes and she shuts them, defeat is palpable and she feels Klaus grow tense again, his hold on her cheek tightening as his thumb lovingly strokes the apple of her cheek.

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter? What is going on with you? Tell me.” 

His voice seems to be the last straw and Caroline gives into the ache she has no business feeling. Traitors shouldn’t be allowed comfort, they should suffer in silence. But she is weak and selfish, soaking up every bit of solace Klaus offers her as he cuts the proximity between them and pulls her into his arms. 

The familiarity of him, his scent, his quiet strength, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest spread such palpable relief through her body, Caroline’s knees nearly buckle. Sensing this, Klaus quickly lifts her onto the island, coming to rest between her thighs as he stares determinedly at her. 

“Caroline.” He says sternly, a warning echoing in the room. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers back, hating how meek she sounds. 

“For what, love?” He asks softly, finger tracing her skin again, coaxing her to look at him. 

Being this close to him, confronting just how much she means to him and how much she has wanted him all this time, it motivates her. She owes him an explanation, and at the very least, a less vague apology.

“I’m sorry for leaving Rebekah behind, for not being strong enough to fight off those witches. I’m sorry for running and I’m really sorry for being the reason that Rebekah was in danger in the first place. I should have found another way to find Eliot.” 

She feels better after. If only because she’s never spoken these words out loud…only ever envisioned what she would say to Klaus if she had the opportunity. 

It feels so good in fact that she doesn’t detect the smile on Klaus’ face or his extended silence until he’s full on grinning at her. His entire stance is calmer now, probably because he is no longer in the dark about why she’s acting this way. 

“First off, sweetheart, not even the strongest vampire in the world can resist compulsion…well except me, but I’m of course the exception.” He pauses self satisfyingly for a moment and Caroline has the urge to roll her eyes.

It’s so typical of him to stroke his own ego even in the midst of rebuffing her. She opens her mouth to protest, but he runs his thumb across her bottom lip warningly.

“Second of all, Rebekah told me what they made you do and the circumstance you were both placed in and neither she nor I blame you for what you did. Those witches…no those power abusing monsters put you in an impossible situation where you had to choose between saving a human boy and an immortal being…I would have done the same. Rebekah would have done the same as well.” 

For a moment, Caroline thinks that she misheard him and her protests die on her lips. 

“Rebekah…you found her? She’s safe?” 

Even as Caroline utters these words, she doesn’t quite believe them, despite Klaus nodding in confirmation. 

“Yes, love. She is alive and well. By my estimations, she is already driving Elijah and Stefan mad in my absence.” He adds in an attempt to make her feel better but Caroline is still somewhere in between relief and incredulity. 

“But how…I search for her for years. The witches, they hid her, it seemed impossible.” 

“I know you tried, sweetheart.” Klaus interjects, “but I guess true love prevails after all.” 

Caroline immediately looks up at him, confused by the vagueness of his comment. 

“Stefan found her a little over three months ago. He just wouldn’t give up. Eventually, he tracked down her location to Cairo. They were keeping her beneath the ancient tombs; a supernatural burial ground was the perfect cover to hide such a high concentration of power. That’s why none of your witch contacts or vampire hunters could locate her. From what we could surmise, they had been planning to use her against me as leverage.” 

Something dark passes in his gaze then and though Caroline doesn’t want to ask this for fear of the answer, she has to, for Rebekah and for herself. 

“How was she when Stefan found her? How is she now?” 

“Nothing life threatening.” 

He is purposely elusive, undoubtedly to spare Caroline any more guilt and remorse. But she doesn’t need his coddling; she needs to face the truth, the ramification of what she’s done. 

“I know Rebekah is immortal, Klaus. I’m not stupid or suffering from amnesia, but that’s not what I asked.” She persists, digging the heels of her palms into the counter edge with a force that threatens to chip the marble. 

“I know what you’re asking, Caroline and I refuse to indulge your childish whimsy.” Klaus fires back and his tone, as if he is in fact speaking to a child, incites her further. 

“Childish whimsy? I am the one who got Rebekah into this mess and I deserve to know what happened to her.” 

“Why?” Klaus asks through gritted teeth as he sets a palm on each side of her thighs, trapping her as he leans in, “so you can continue to hide away and torture yourself with guilt and remorse for something that isn’t even your fault?” 

His voice rises with each syllable but Caroline refuses to buckle beneath his intimidating stance. 

“It is my fault.” She fights back, pressing one of her palms against his chest, not sure whether to push him away or bring him closer. 

“I did it to her, I’m the one who came to you for help and dragged Rebekah into a fight she had no business being a part of. I deserve to hear every painful detail of her captivity, because it’s my fault, because it should have been me.” 

Caroline doesn’t even recognize her own voice as her words turn into near shouts, bouncing off the walls of her tiny apartment, draining her as she finds herself fisting the material of Klaus’ jacket. 

“It should have been me.” She whispers again, as if to convince herself.

Although she can practically feel Klaus pulsating with anger and frustration, she ignores it, will not let him change her mind…not on this. 

The silence stretches between them, only punctuated slightly by outside noise and Caroline’s labored breathing. Klaus removes her hand from his chest and runs his lips over her knuckles. 

“Foolish woman.” He mutters, but there’s nothing but affection in his voice. 

“Do you realize that if Rebekah had not come with you, you’d be dead now? They would have killed you only because they would not have any use for you.” He pauses then, forcing her to look at him as he runs his thumb across her jawline. 

“Silly witches didn’t do their homework.” He continues derisively, not hiding his distaste for the rogue coven that was responsible for kidnapping Eliot Donovan.

“If only they had done a little research instead of relying on their own arrogance and opportunity. They would have known that the easiest way to get to me would have been to take you, not my immortal sister. But I thank them every day for their stupidity, because it kept you safe, it kept you alive.”

Caroline says nothing, completely transfixed by his words. They suggest the impossible; that after all this, after _everything_ , Klaus isn’t just attracted to her, but still wants her, still wants eternity with her. 

“I don’t deserve to be alive.” She persists, “not after that.” 

Klaus expels a seemingly frustrated breath but Caroline refuses to meet his gaze. He may be displeased with what she feels but it’s her goddamn feelings, her emotions and her guilt and to hell with him. There’s nothing he can do about it. 

Well except…

The kiss is unexpected but she thinks she should have felt it coming, simply based on the way Klaus seemed almost exasperated with her right before his lips descended on hers. 

It’s brief but seems to do the trick as she forgets everything she’d just been thinking. His impulse breathes life into her, giving her the strength to look him in the eye without her guard up. 

She doesn’t hide from him, especially not how much she wants him…needs him even. She’s so tired of pretending otherwise, it’s likely taken as much of a toll on her as all the guilt she’s been carrying around. 

“I don’t deserve this…or you.” She admits, because it needs to be said. Her fingers itch to wrap themselves around his necklaces and pull him closer again but she exercises self control…knows she has no business taking this, at least not until he understands exactly how awful she has felt this entire time for what happened. 

Still, Klaus is not one to be easily deterred and holds his ground.

“Let me be the judge of that.” He suggests, index finger tracing the length of her clavicle before dipping underneath the strap of her dress. 

The goose bumps rise involuntarily and Caroline feels herself blush in a way she hasn’t in a very, very long time. 

He can sense her hesitation though.

“A very intelligent young woman once told me that everyone, even the worst monster, is capable of being saved. I happen to agree.” 

He smiles infectiously at her and Caroline finds her resolve weakening, lips curving upward slightly. 

“Well she is pretty smart so I don’t blame you for agreeing.” She quips back and this reprieve seems to be exactly what she needs, what they both need. 

There’s a beat of silence, while Caroline searches for words, something that’s appropriate to say after their tense conversation. 

“So…where were you planning on going?” 

She bites the inside of her cheek as she scans the room, settling on the two suitcases by her bed as she contemplates what to say. But the hesitation is brief, because really there is only one answer to that. 

“Home.” She says resolutely, “I was planning on going home.” 

“What a coincidence, since I am headed in that direction.” 

The words shouldn’t have the effect on her that they do, but she can’t help it. Caroline doesn’t want to fight him, doesn’t want to continue hiding and suffering in silence. As undeserving of it as she may be, happiness seems to be within her grasp and she refuses to let it go yet again because of petty insecurities. 

This time, there are no wars to be fought, no humanity to retrieve, and no children to be rescued. Even though she still believes herself to be responsible for what happened to Rebekah, Caroline vows to spend all of eternity making up for her mistakes…if only because she’s been granted this chance and she refuses to waste it. 

This time she initiates the kiss, targeting his mouth as she runs her tongue along his lower lip like she’s wanted to since the last time they kissed. Klaus reciprocates instantly, exploring the caverns of her mouth with a practiced familiarity that sends a jolt of arousal all the way down to her toes. 

Caroline uses every ounce of self-control to break away before she no longer can. Anticipation settles low in her belly as she thinks about a time in the not so distant future when they won’t need to break apart, will carry it all the way through…repeatedly.

Klaus’ hooded gaze confirms this and she smiles indulgently; a smile shared only between them before she presses her lips against his one more time and rests her forehead on his shoulder.

“Take me home,” she murmurs, breathing in his scent, “take me home, Klaus.” 

xxx

Caroline isn’t sure what she expects in terms of their transportation but when she walks out of her apartment the next morning to find a sleek blue Audi Roadster parked in front, she arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at the man leaning against it. 

Klaus peers at her over the rim of his aviators and walks towards her with a smirk, hands purposely grazing hers as he takes her luggage. 

“What?” He calls over his shoulder, “were you expecting a private jet?” 

“Please.” Caroline scoffs and makes a show of sliding into the passenger seat; a part of her is truly embarrassed at the fact that thoughts of a private jet had crossed her mind. 

She’s fully aware that these fanciful thoughts are a side effect of Klaus’ presence but somehow that doesn’t unnerve her as much as it should. Despite having spent most of her undead existence deliberately not taking advantage of the wealth she amassed over time, being pampered after everything feels right. 

And she knows she’d never do it for herself…whereas Klaus seems perfectly at ease with the task. 

Twenty minutes later, as they approach a private hangar and a Cessna XLS comes into view, Caroline reaches across the console and smacks Klaus on the shoulder. 

He merely looks over at her and grins, before cutting the engine and flashing out of the car to her side. 

Accepting his hand, Caroline slides out of her seat and Klaus fixes her with a half-smile before affectionately looping his fingers through her curls. 

“If I could have landed this plane on your front door step, I would have.” 

Her hand reaches out on its own accord, delicately tracing the edge of his strong jaw. Despite her talkative nature, she finds that as soon as she stopped fighting her feelings for him, so many years ago, each time they have met since she has been at a loss for words.

At least for the right ones. 

“Is that supposed to impress me?” She asks, smirk curving her lips. 

At this, Klaus drops his hold on her hair and pulls at her wrist until they’re pressed hip to thigh. His breath grazes the outer shell of her ear, sending a distinct wave of arousal through her.

“You have not seen everything I have to offer, sweetheart.” He pauses then, the ultimate move in seduction as her stomach tightens with anticipation. 

“But you will.” He promises with a low chuckle before twining their fingers together and guiding her to the jet. 

His vow carries her through the plane ride to Budapest, which isn’t exactly on their way home, but Caroline doesn’t really mind. 

She doesn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed, this calm. If she’s honest with herself, it was probably the last time she was in his presence. The last time he held her in his arms while they danced at his inauguration ball. Amidst all the anxiety and concern she had felt for Eliot, Klaus had made her feel safe, protected, desired. Made her feel like a woman again.

Much like he is doing now, gazing lazily at her from time to time. 

They spend most of the flight in companionable silence, and Caroline doesn’t realize she has dozed off until she feels a gentle hand rousing her back into consciousness. 

“Sorry, love but we’re about to land.” 

He is composed but his expression belies an unusual concern. 

“Okay,” She nods, straightening up in her seat and trying to shake the disorienting remnants of her sleep. 

“I’ll go check with the pilot.” Klaus adds before disappearing from the main cabin. 

It’s only then that she realizes that her hands are shaking and that there’s a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. 

Realization dawns and she falls back against the leather seat, suddenly exhausted. 

Her mind is blank but she knows the side effects of her nightmares, is well acquainted with them and judging by the look Klaus gave her, he now has an inkling of what’s going on.

It’s only a matter of time until he confronts her. 

The thought is enough to lull her back into a dreamless sleep but Klaus chooses that moment to return and she fixes him with a bright smile, pleading silently with him not to bring it up, at least not yet. 

The imperceptible nod of his head gives her relief but he sits further away from her, keeping his distance as he appraises her critically, as if searching for physical evidence of what he has witnessed. 

Caroline turns her gaze to the window, unable to bear his penetrating gaze but vowing to herself that she will not wait too long to let him in. 

xxx 

It takes Caroline exactly two days to realize that their detour is not business related as Klaus previously implied. 

She wants to be angry or annoyed but she’s not the least bit frustrated with him for lying, knows that she would have protested this excursion regardless of how much she may need it. 

It’s also endearing that he chose Budapest as their first stop, considering she distinctly remembers telling him that it’s one of the cities that surprised her the most and one of the few she explored the least in her travels.

For that reason alone, she can’t be mad at him. She can’t remember the last time someone did something thoughtful just for her and she would be a hypocrite if she were upset at his little white lie…considering the secrets she’s keeping from him. 

Still, it’s kind of fun to mess with him about it, asking probing questions about his business associates and whether his dealings in Hungary are of the supernatural variety. This lasts exactly one more evening before Caroline decides to put him out his misery.

They’re sitting at an outdoor café, underneath a veranda that does nothing to take away from the oppressive midday heat when she takes a sip of her iced coffee and breaks their tranquil silence. 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” She informs him pointedly, tilting her head down so she can peer at him over the rim of her Ray Bans. 

Klaus sets his sketchpad on the table and reclines back in his seat, fingers steepled across his middle.

“Whatever do you mean, love?” 

The bastard has enough guile to be cheeky with her, smiling widely as he looks on; the epitome of confidence and quiet authority. 

“Oh, spare me.” Caroline rolls her eyes as she sets her glass on the table and leans forward, “I know you don’t actually have any business in Budapest.” 

Klaus raises his eyebrows, feigning surprise but doesn’t say anything, allowing Caroline to continue. 

“In fact, I’m pretty sure whatever our next destination will be, it will have nothing to do with any professional obligation.” 

He has the nerve to chuckle at that and leans forward as well, forearm resting across the iron wrought table separating them, “so you want there to be a next destination?” 

For a second, she’s caught off guard and considers evading his inquiry, but realizes quickly that she doesn’t want to. Maybe a little honesty wouldn’t hurt either of them. 

“Yes.” She nods, response coming out a little too breathlessly, but she doesn’t regret it. It’s liberating to be this open with him, to not have to hide what she wants or play any ridiculous games. 

She knows he wants her and it’s about time she remind him that she wants him too. 

She can tell Klaus isn’t expecting her honesty and his smile falters for just a moment before it’s back full force. He picks up his sketchpad again, acting as if nothing significant has happened. 

She can feel it though, can sense that something has shifted. Her admission has given him a bit of confidence; just enough to remind him that he’s not in this alone, that she wants to be here just as much as he does.

That’s mostly why she lets it slide when he speaks a second later…that and the fact that he’s completely spot on. 

“And don’t think I don’t know that I’m not the only one keeping secrets, Caroline.”

xxx 

Her avoidance catches up to her while they’re in transit to Istanbul. He lets her pick their next stop and she goes a step further and suggests they take a train to Turkey. 

Klaus seems fascinated with her choice of transport and books the first available private suite. 

Caroline has traveled on trains before in Europe, but it has been a while and she’s subtly impressed by the spacious seating area, the modern décor, and the two rooms connected by a small but tastefully done en-suite bathroom. 

Once they’ve settled in, Klaus returns to his sketches and Caroline curls up on the loveseat with every intention of reading but instead, she finds herself watching Klaus work. 

She’s always admired how concentrated and focused he becomes with a charcoal in his hand and a few sheets of blank paper, but today there is something invigorating about him. The way his fingers move across the page, commanding the charcoal in an elaborate pattern sends a shiver skating down her spine. 

Desire burns low in her belly and she curls deeper into the blanket around her, book abandoned as she tries to curb the direction of her thoughts before she’s discovered. She closes her eyes only for a moment, but it’s enough for the exhaustion that she’s been feeling lately to lull her into an unexpected sleep. 

She wakes not by choice much later, when it is already dark out. The train is moving at breakneck speed but Caroline knows that’s not the source of her nausea or the shaking of her limbs. She shoots up from the couch; legs tangled in the blanket. She makes it all the way to the other side of the room before her head starts spinning. If it weren’t for the two strong hands that catch her by her elbows, she would surely collapse. 

“Whoa, easy there, love.” His voice, cutting through the remnants of violent images that thrashed her subconscious not a moment ago, is like a soothing balm. Caroline revels in the strength he gives her, hands gripping at his forearms as she takes long breaths to stave off the panic rising within. 

Klaus doesn’t say anything while she composes herself and she’s grateful for it. The air is thick with tension and unspoken words and Caroline knows she needs just one more minute, one more moment to gather the strength to face him. 

When she finally looks up, the concern in Klaus’ eyes is overwhelming. It’s tinged with an uncertainty that makes her heart ache for him, makes all the guilt she’s been suppressing expand like a rock in her chest, making it almost too difficult to breathe again. 

She knows she’s been testing his patience, has been abusing the leeway he’d given her, waiting for her to come to him because he respects her, because he cares about her. 

Elijah had been right about his younger sibling. Klaus is not a patient man, never has been but he’s willing to put that aside for her and it’s high time she do the same. 

“When was the last time you fed?” He catches her off guard, the edge in his voice the only indication that he is mildly frustrated with her. 

The impulse to lie and evade is strong but Caroline figures if he can overcome his natural instincts, so can she. 

Her shoulders slump as she looks down at the floor for a moment. 

“I honestly don’t remember.” 

She can see he is disappointed and a part of her braces for a fight but Klaus doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes over to the cooler discreetly positioned by the liquor cabinet and is back in front of her a second later with a blood bag. 

“Drink.” He demands but all Caroline can do is stare at it, shaking her head as she backs away. 

She hates how weak she is, hates how she is so crippled by her past that she cannot partake in that which is natural to her. Tears pool in her eyes as she thinks with newfound anger about how much the witches stole from her, leaving her a weakling…a victim like she promised herself she would never be again. 

She can’t bear to look at Klaus, can’t handle even a smidgen of inevitable disappointment, but she also owes him an explanation, knows she has nowhere to hide. They are confined to this space, the two of them for another 16 hours and a part of her is almost glad.

Glad that this happened somewhere where she can’t flee, where she is pretty much forced to confront it all and that Klaus will bear witness. Any worry she has over what he may think of her takes a backseat to the possibility that hiding this from him will be the final nail in the coffin. 

His patience will eventually run out and she will succeed in pushing him away…and then what?

She knows she can’t go back to the way things were before, cannot fathom the idea of this empty, suffocating existence she’s had until he came to Paris. It’s been only a few days, a drop in the bucket for people like them but she knows full well that sometimes all it takes is a few moments to change the course of one’s trajectory. 

It took Katherine Pierce exactly two minutes to suffocate Caroline. 

It took just one bite from Tyler in a moment of passion to bring Klaus into her life. 

And it took the witches only a few hours to cripple Caroline so badly that she now carries a permanent tattoo in her soul of the things they made her do and witness. 

Now, Caroline knows that all she needs is one moment of strength, one burst of adrenaline to tell Klaus everything, consequences be damned. 

She gathers a deep, unnecessary breath and turns away from the window, eyes flickering momentarily to the blood bag in his hand before settling on his face. 

“I can’t drink that.” She finally speaks, trying to gauge his mood as his own eyes narrow at her warily, aware that there is more to the story than she’s letting on, “in fact, I can’t drink human blood at all…haven’t in years.” 

There’s a beat of silence in which Klaus sets the blood bag on the end table and steps closer to her. 

“What do you mean you can’t?” he probes further, understanding that this isn’t an ethical decision on her part.

Caroline leans against the window sill, eyes roaming the fields as the train rushes past them. Everything is passing by too quickly for her tired eyes to concentrate on the scenery for too long. 

She focuses on the moon instead. It hangs low and majestic in the dark blue sky, the only constant in their journey. Caroline closes her eyes for a split second before turning to Klaus again. 

“I’m not sure how much Rebekah told you about that night, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t remember much after we were captured. They went after her first because they knew she was an Original, figured they’d disable the bigger threat before coming after me.”

Even now, Caroline can’t hide the bitterness in her tone. She had never felt as helpless or as inadequate as she did that night. It was one of the only moments in her long existence that she had contemplated turning off her humanity. And she might have, had it not been for Matt’s grandson. 

So wrapped up in her thoughts, Caroline barely feels Klaus take hold of her hand. One of her palms is pressed against the window, but she doesn’t resist his touch, wraps her fingers tightly around his, drawing strength from their connection. 

“Why don’t you start from the beginning, sweetheart.” He murmurs softly, so close she can feel his breath in her hair and unconsciously she leans into him.

His quiet attentiveness reminds her of what he said to her about Tyler back in New Orleans. He was right; Tyler could never figure out when she needed saving and when she needed to fight for herself. Cataloguing Klaus’ reaction now, fighting against his own instincts to let her open up on her own makes her heart swell. 

He’s sticking to his words, letting her fight this battle on her own, standing guard but not interfering and never pushing. 

If possible, she falls a little harder for him. 

“Davina’s spell gave us an address in Queens, an abandoned factory that had been shut down for years. However, some of Damon’s contacts had heard of this rogue coven and tipped us off about their home base location. The six of us split up. Rebekah, Tyler, and I headed to Queens while Damon, Elena, and Stefan went to the other address in the Lower East Side. Before we could get there, however, Damon, Elena, and Stefan were ambushed, which in hindsight was a diversion tactic, a trap we fell into like fools. Originally, Rebekah was going to go help them, while Tyler and I headed to Queens. But Tyler changed his mind last minute, figuring I would be safer with Rebekah in case anything went down. He dispatched some of his pack to be our back up and took off back to Manhattan.” 

She moves to the liquor cabinet then, selecting a bottle of aged Scotch and taking a healthy swig before passing it to Klaus. He raises an eyebrow in slight disapproval but takes the bottle anyway, even if only to keep it away from her. 

“As soon as we got to the warehouse, all hell broke loose. The witches immediately disabled our back up, and crippled Rebekah just enough to shoot her up with multiple doses of vervain. I knew right then that they had Eliot somewhere in the warehouse and knowing I could do nothing to help Rebekah, I began searching for him. 

With all their careful planning, I don’t think the coven was prepared to take on an Original and me at the same time, even with their mental mojo, so I was able to get to Eliot but with only enough time to see that Davina had been right. He wasn’t dead but he was barely conscious, with no signs of physical injury but he didn’t even recognize me and while I tried to rouse him is when two coven members snuck up on me.”

Just thinking about what happened next makes her falter just a little. Klaus seems to sense this and takes a hold of her hand again, fingers squeezing gently as he pulls her to the couch. 

“Come here, love.” 

“I’m fine.” Caroline resists, but eventually allows him to guide her. 

She sits down, but is unable to relax, gaze focused ahead and back ramrod straight. Klaus relents in his attempts to truly calm her down but remains by her side. Caroline feels how tense he is, how much it displeases him that all of this happened and he had not been there to help. 

Caroline shares in his guilt, even if his is completely misplaced. 

_“You and I, we are the same.”_

His words have rung true throughout the years and are never more apparent than they are right now. For some reason, this makes Caroline smile, even through the terror of her memories.

“At first, they just talked. Rattling off some useless crap about how Eliot’s research threatened to expose the supernatural community, how the lines were so blurred already and they didn’t need another scholar wreaking havoc in their midst. Tyler had been completely right about them, about the purpose for Eliot’s kidnapping but of course all of this was just a way to exercise control, to demonstrate their power over humans. Later, when I was searching for Rebekah, I learned a lot about this particular coven, about how their ancestors’ bloodlines came directly from Silas and how one by one each generation of witches succumbed to expression.” 

“I thought them an urban legend myself until I crossed paths with one of them in the late 1870s.” 

“So you know then,” Caroline cuts in, mind miles away in the past, “you know the extent of their power, you know that they are able to replicate a vampire’s power of compulsion.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline sees Klaus nod imperceptibly, but she doesn’t wait for him to say anything else. 

“At first, they made me watch as they alternated between mind controlling Eliot and Rebekah. I don’t know what they made them see but it was horrifying, Klaus. It was worse than anything I had ever witnessed before. It was Silas’ mind control but worse, because it came from multiple sources all at once. At one point, Eliot nearly passed out from the pain and I had had enough. I started provoking them to divert their attention away from him and it worked. At least for a little while.” 

There’s not a single part of her that wants to relive those moments in that warehouse, but she knows she has to, if she ever plans to move forward; if she ever plans to be the woman worthy of the man sitting beside her, fighting every instinct he has not to lash out and fend off these phantom demons for her. 

“They knew I was aware that Originals cannot be compelled, so they did it to Rebekah first. Just to demonstrate their powers, a warning that there was nothing I could do against them. It was a brilliant move on their part really, because looking back on it now, I played right into their hands. They knew my weaknesses even before I did, knew the type of lifestyle I chose and they used it to their advantage.” 

She pauses then, shutting her eyes to trap whatever tears threaten to escape. This is the part of the story she has never spoken about, has been terrified to acknowledge even happened. She’s not sure how much Rebekah told her brother, but knows instinctively that Klaus is unaware of this part. 

Caroline reminds herself to thank Rebekah for keeping it to herself once she sees her…amongst everything else she has to say to the older vampire. 

“I know you’ve never been compelled but you must still remember how it felt to be under Silas’ mind control. I remember it especially because there was a part of me that felt somehow amiss, like the image Silas created in my head was just a little off, not quite real. I could fight that, I could get him out of my head eventually, but this…this was different.” 

Her breath catches just slightly and Klaus immediately grips her hand, pulling her closer to him, but with enough space between them to give her the freedom she needs. Briefly, she wonders if the Big Bad has ever been as meticulous and genuine in his interaction with anyone as he is being with her. 

The contemplation opens a train of thoughts she can’t stop. There are so many other things she’d rather be talking to him about, so many things she wants to ask about, to tell him about…unlike this conversation, which is at the bottom of her list. 

Begrudgingly, she acknowledges however that in order to open up about those other things, she has to come clean first. 

“I was completely under their control and the insane thing is, I remember everything as if it happened yesterday. Everything they made me do…” 

Her voice trails off then and her grip on Klaus’ hand tightens as she fights not to lose herself in her memories. She has to actively remind herself that she’s not in that warehouse anymore, that Rebekah and Eliot are both safe, that she’s safe…that all this fear and embarrassment she’s been carrying with herself for almost two decades needs to be discarded. Bottom line: it’s not her fault what happened, she did everything she could to prevent it. 

“Sweetheart…” 

One word spoken with such affection is enough to pull her out of her reverie and Caroline feels herself relax just slightly as she refocuses her gaze on Klaus. 

He’s breathtaking. Bathed in moonlight, his features stand out like a stark and soothing reminder of what is within her reach. His remorse is evident and it unnerves her. She can’t help it then and reaches out to grasp his cheek, hand cradling his stubbled jaw as she fixes him with a knowing smile. 

They really are one in the same. Strong willed and stubborn; refusing to give up responsibility for something that was entirely out of their control. Caroline realizes in that moment that Klaus needs to hear this just as much as she needs to talk about it, if not more. 

They both need to stop running from their past and accept whatever mistakes they have made. In Klaus’ case, he needs to stop blaming himself for letting her and Rebekah go to New York by themselves and she…well Caroline knows exactly what she needs to stop blaming herself for. 

“First, they made me feed on Rebekah while Eliot watched. It wasn’t so bad but she had been doped up on vervain on and off for several hours and it burned….everything burned, both inside and out. I couldn’t stop, I tried but I couldn’t and the worst was only ahead of me. They had me feed off her after each shot of vervain and I was so miserable, I didn’t even realize they had compelled Eliot to be afraid of me until they…” 

She pauses again but this time Klaus doesn’t interrupt her or encourage her along. She watches as he connects the dots before she can even finish the story. A myriad of emotions crosses his face and she catalogues each of them separately, confusion, disbelief, guilt, then sympathy.

Never pity and Caroline finds herself more grateful than ever.

She could not bear the thought of Klaus feeling sorry for her, it would destroy all her resolve, shake her foundation without a way to rebuild. 

“So that’s why you can’t drink human blood.” 

Caroline nods, suddenly remembering what brought this all on in the first place. The blood bag is sitting in plain view but she isn’t tempted in the slightest. 

Along with her morale, the witches had broken something else that night: her ability to crave, desire, yearn. Had reached into her and ripped away an integral part of her identity, that which is so natural to a vampire. 

Her choice to subsist on animal blood was hers and hers alone and it was savagely robbed from her that night. 

The thought makes her impossibly angry all of a sudden and she stands from the couch, needing to feel the ground beneath her feet, to tether herself to the present instead of drowning in the past. 

“I will never forget the look on Eliot’s face after I stopped feeding on him. They brought him out of his compulsion just in time for me to see the look of betrayal and fear on that boy’s face. He looked so much like Matt when he was young; it felt like I had just fed on my childhood friend, on the first boy who had ever really cared for me.” 

She’s aware now that she’s rambling, but she can’t help herself. Gone is the composed, steely version of herself, replaced by the frantic, trembling mess. She is defenseless, exposed like a nerve, despite knowing that she must relive that moment to overcome this, to finally be able to breathe without the weight of that memory crushing her every move. 

Just when she feels herself unable to stand, unable to put these demons to rest, she feels Klaus enter her proximity. He doesn’t pull her into an embrace, knowing it will only smother her, but he rests his hands on her shoulders, urging her to look at him. 

“You’re alright, love.” He murmurs soothingly, keeping his magnetic blue gaze on her to calm her down. 

“Just breathe, sweetheart. You’re safe, you’re with me.” 

She marvels at his ability to say exactly what she needs to hear. A jolt of exhilaration barrels through her at the prospect that she may never again have to force anyone to understand where she’s coming from or what she needs. 

Arguments between them will inevitably happen; they will bicker like stubborn children with little regard for how ludicrous their spats are. But in the issues that actually matter, Caroline knows they will understand one another and be on the same side. 

Like right now…he’s in her corner. It’s true support, the kind she’s gotten sparingly over the years at her own volition. She remembers distinctly how she ran and hid from her friends after her mother died, but it had felt wrong to accept comfort from them and she couldn’t identify why she was so resistant. 

When Damon found her in South America, it clicked. She had always been the strong one in their inner circle. The fixer, who was called in to manage a crisis situation or clean up the mess (usually bodies) after yet another failed attempt by some villain to wreak havoc in their sleepy town.

As such, not even Elena, her oldest friend in the whole world, understood how to deal with a grieving, broken Caroline. There was no doubt in her mind that her friends loved and cared for her, but they simply did not know how to be there for her, because Caroline never let them in. 

With Damon, it was different because his emotional investment wasn’t as intense as Elena’s or Stefan’s or even Tyler’s and so she let her guard down. Much like she’s doing now, except that she realizes Klaus has been taking down her walls brick by brick with every encounter over the years. Perhaps that’s what makes it easier to breathe, to walk him through what happened. 

“That’s usually what I dream about…Eliot’s face after they made me feed on him. We’re not always in that warehouse. Sometimes I’m back in those woods with Silas or sometimes I’m in that cage again being shot up by Jules’ psychotic werewolf boyfriend but it always ends with Eliot’s face.” 

Actually admitting this out loud after a decade and a half of suppression proves to be too much and she’s the one that initiates their embrace, wrapping her arms around his torso and pressing her forehead to his chest. 

Klaus doesn’t say anything for a very long time, simply lets her be and Caroline feels like she has nothing more to say. She doesn’t want to talk about how, after days of repeated torture and hallucinations, the coven eventually got bored and left the three of them alone long enough for Caroline and Rebekah to devise a plan.

She had been hesitant to let Rebekah play the distraction, but knew Eliot wouldn’t last much longer without food or water, not with how much she was draining him every few hours. He was going to die and they needed to get out, so she let Rebekah sacrifice herself to save Eliot. 

Caroline knows she will always carry a sliver of guilt for Rebekah’s role in all of this. But she knows it will be nothing compared to the weight she would have carried had Klaus not coaxed the truth out of her. 

She will be eternally grateful for that as well…because she isn’t sure she would have ever found the courage without him. 

“Thank you.” She says to him with resolve, confidence returning to her inch by inch. 

He smiles at her then, and though it isn’t his usual carefree grin, Caroline takes comfort in it anyway. 

“For what, sweetheart?” 

“For pushing me to talk about this without actually pushing me. For not judging me and being mad at me for being such a coward. But more importantly for understanding who I am and what I need without me having to ask.” She fists the material of his Henley fiercely as the words tumble out with ease. 

“I’ve never had that with anyone except you.” She adds a moment later, hoping he will, once again, understand what she’s saying without her having to say it directly. 

She can tell that it pleases him greatly to hear these words but he remains silent, handsome features frozen in a stoic expression. 

“I think you have it all wrong, darling.” He declares a few moments later, voice an octave lower and lethal to her senses, “I should be the one thanking you.” 

His fingers ghost across her cheek and behind her ear, tangling in the golden tresses as he rakes his eyes over her face. 

“For what.” Caroline barely breathes out. She’s tense again but this time it’s the tight coil of desire that’s keeping her suspended in this moment. There hasn’t been a previous instant in which she has had to fight her self-control as intensely as she is right now. 

Illuminated by the moonlight, he exudes a seductive dichotomy of dominance and tenderness that leaves Caroline yearning for him like never before. So distracted by her building arousal, she barely hears his answer. 

“For surviving. For keeping yourself together after what you went through, because trust me when I say, that a world without you in it, is not a world I want to be a part of, Caroline.” His fingers curl around her shoulders and squeeze awareness into her. 

He looks dead serious and on edge, like he wants to physically imprint this information onto her brain. To make her understand that these words aren’t spoken in jest and that it’s not easy for him to be forthcoming either. 

“I need you to hear me when I say that I simply do not care what you did to survive, only that you did it and that you’re safe now and that you’re with me. And I promise that you will never have to go through that again, not while I am around…which fortunately for you, is eternity.” 

He smirks at her then, an attempt at levity that leaves Caroline softly chuckling and shaking her head. His promise is probably the sweetest thing she’s ever heard but it also has a weight attached to it. 

It is no longer a question of uncertainty on his part. He knows how she feels about him and his actions thus far suggest that he isn’t expecting her to discuss her feelings, not after the emotional ordeal they’ve both just been through. However, eventually he won’t disguise what he needs with humor, won’t let her slip away without hearing what he needs to from her. 

And as terrifying as that used to be for her, the idea of committing to him, to their future together for all of eternity, isn’t that scary anymore. If she can open up about what happened in New York, and he’s still here…Caroline knows there’s not much else that could tear them apart.

They have now seen each others’ darkest sides, have been exposed to the deepest, darkest secrets and emerged on the other side. She knows there’s no turning back now…this is it. 

The only panic she feels stems from the fact that this is simply too good to be true. 

“I don’t deserve you.” She admits rather lamely, a little embarrassed as she stifles a yawn.

“Nonsense,” Klaus cuts in right away, wrapping his arm around her waist, “you deserve all of this and much more and I intend to give it to you, but first, you need sleep.” 

Caroline opens her mouth to protest but her body betrays her, another yawn escaping instead. 

She still manages to roll her eyes as Klaus chuckles at her vain attempt. He doesn’t wait for her to agree, simply guides her by the hand to one of the bedrooms and turns down the comforter on one side. 

He moves to settle into the chair by the bed but she doesn’t let him go far. 

“Nu uh, if I am on forced bed rest, so are you.” She tugs him by the sleeve. Klaus doesn’t protest, smiling somewhat devilishly as he slides in besides her, draping an arm possessively over her hips. 

“You know if you want me in your bed, all you have to do is ask.” He teases quietly, breath grazing her ear. 

Caroline reaches behind her and lightly slaps him on his shoulder while murmuring something about him being a lascivious old man. 

His low laughter in response settles warmly in her belly. 

She is asleep in minutes… 

xxx


	6. Late July 2097

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s absolutely nothing pure about her anymore. Even if the man beside her would argue that point, Caroline knows deep inside her that she’s no longer the same beacon of proverbial light. 
> 
> How can she be? After everything she’s witnessed, lived through, _experienced_. There is no way she could have retained that youthful spirit for all eternity, and perhaps that is the root of her uncertainty. 
> 
> After all, she of all people knows that old insecurities have a way of rearing their ugly head when you least expect them to. 
> 
> And what if the one part of her old personality that still managed to survive the last hundred years is the part of her that fears that she’s still not good enough? What if despite everything that’s happened between them since he found her in Paris, she fears Klaus will be disappointed when he recognizes all the changes within her? Figures out that the light he’s spent over a hundred years being fascinated by and waiting for has likely been extinguished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I am so very sorry for the wait on this part, but I finally tackled this monster and have a nice and lengthy chapter for all of you as a reward for your patience. There are specific scenes in here that inspired the entire story, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you to those of you who PMed me, it definitely helped me along in my writing process and as always, thank you to Cathy for the awesome editing job and moral support. You are all wonderful :).

xxx

_“To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead.”  
-Bertrand Russell, (British Author, mathematician and philosopher)_

xxx

**_Late July 2097_ **

**New Orleans**

In Istanbul, they get lazy. They spend two glorious weeks in the Turkish capital doing absolutely nothing and absolutely enjoying it. 

At least Caroline thinks Klaus is enjoying himself, judging by the glimmer that never quite leaves his eye. There’s still a hint of insecurity seated somewhere deep inside her, but it’s only a kernel and she pushes it aside any time the urge takes over. She owes both of them that much, especially Klaus for the support and silent strength he had offered her that night on the train. 

Prior to that conversation, Caroline hadn’t thought there could be anything else that could make her feel more intensely for the man currently lying beside her, but now she knows she was wrong. 

Just to confirm, she glances up at him, where he’s leaning against the headboard, immersed in an old paperback. When he tears his gaze away to smile at her, the beat of her dead heart escalates just so and her lips curve upward of their own accord. She knows it’s just a matter of time until she completely gives in.

Until she tells him everything he wants and deserves to hear. 

A part of her would much rather show him and the smile on her face grows mischievous as she pushes herself up and crawls up the length of his body with deliberate leisure. Klaus immediately picks up on her intentions, but instead of giving in simply raises an eyebrow at her, remaining absolutely still. 

The look in his eye is smoldering, however, igniting every bit of desire she thinks she is capable of feeling and it’s in moments like this that Caroline wonders how it’s possible that they still haven’t had sex.   
They’ve shared a bed since that night on the train, and there has been no shortage of intimacy between them, but for whatever reason neither of them have initiated that final step. Though her own reservations are a bit unclear, Caroline suspects that Klaus is quite simply nervous.

This conclusion didn’t come lightly to her, but rather through several days of observation and classic Caroline Forbes over-analysis. And though the revelation fills her with a sense of womanly pride (because let’s face it, this is a thousand year old creature that she’s essentially reduced to a mere mortal man with slight performance anxiety,) she can tell they’re both growing frustrated, and eventually something will have to give. 

Instinctively knowing that today is not that day, she feels carefree to tease and settles quickly in Klaus’ lap, plucking the book from his grasp. 

His hands move naturally to her hips, dipping below the hem of her tank top and cutting off her breath for a split second. Her reaction to this single touch spurs a bloom of heat in her belly, anticipation settling in as she imagines what it will be like when they finally…

Her mind wanders for just a second, but it’s enough for Klaus to gain the upper hand and Caroline feels herself pulled by her belt loops until their torsos collide. 

She barely has time to react before Klaus buries his lips in her neck, noisily inhaling her scent and trailing his lips along her jaw until he reaches her mouth, stopping just short of it. 

Her toes actually curl when he glances up at her, a spattering of freckles across his nose giving him a deceitfully innocent appearance. 

A devil in disguise. 

He stares at her curiously for a few moments, running maddening circles across her skin, inching higher up her sides each time, until Caroline shifts (or more like grounds down on him…mostly without thinking) and something akin to a growl escapes his throat.

“Hi there.” He murmurs once he’s somewhat recovered and Caroline can’t help giggling at his dazed expression. Her hands slide up into his curls, tugging on the strands as she smiles back at him. 

“Hi.” 

“Bored?” He plants a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

She pretends to think for a minute before answering, a hint of playfulness in her expression.

“Intrigued.” 

The second the word leaves her mouth, Caroline finds herself flat on her back with Klaus hovering over her, gaze both facetious and intense at the same time. She’s seen this look before, in fact has been on the receiving end of it quite a few times over the last couple of weeks. It’s his way of toying with her, a method for distracting her so she doesn’t notice his wandering hands. 

Sure enough, a moment later, she feels his nimble fingers trace along the edge of her shorts until he reaches the front clasp…and to her surprise, unbuttons it. 

_Well, this is new_ , she thinks, and automatically her skin prickles and her stomach muscles tighten, and all of a sudden her throat is even a little dry. 

He watches her intently - searching for the desired reaction most likely - as he pulls the zipper down as well, at which point her pulse intensifies. When he presses two fingers right up against her, she thinks she’s reached her breaking point. 

“Klaus.” 

Her voice is not her own; raspy with anxiety or desire or a bit of both, she isn’t sure, but the tinge of uncertainty halts Klaus right away. 

There is a question lingering in his eyes and Caroline instantly feels guilty, but as much as she wants this, she did not mean for it to escalate. An intense self-loathing overtakes her as she sees understanding wash over the hybrid’s face. The emptiness she feels when his touch leaves her body is all the more amplified by his obvious disappointment. 

He doesn’t say anything though; simply lies down on the bed, shoulder to shoulder but not quite touching her and remains there, breathing smoothly, evenly and most likely using every vestige of strength to keep from lashing out. 

She feels like such a tease and not in a good way. She’d long ago admitted to herself that she was hesitant to take this step with him, but the million dollar question is why. She’d grown so self-aware over the last hundred years, even when she was in hiding these past fifteen years, running from guilt, from her demons, she still knew the impetus behind her every action, her every move. 

But this? This lack of clarity is new. 

She simply doesn’t know why she’s so worried, why she is so uncertain. 

She has always assumed that once she and Klaus were reunited, if he was willing to give her another chance, she would give herself to him right away, body and soul. 

And in some ways, she already has. It is just horribly ironic that the one thing she thought she would give away the second she saw him, has been the most difficult to let go of. 

She exposed her soul to him, has lain naked and vulnerable in front of him, every fear and uncertainty and doubt bared to him without much hesitation, but Caroline knows a product of that was her instability. The demons chasing her were bound to catch up with her, and she made a decision to trust her gut and grab onto an anchor before they drowned her completely. 

This…this is different.

The only root of urgency here is their mutual impatience, which at the moment, she can feel Klaus trying very hard to control. 

The fact that he’s doing so largely for her benefit makes Caroline feel even worse and the knot of self-loathing grows inside her, making it a little difficult to breathe. 

She’s not a virgin for God’s sake. 

There’s absolutely nothing pure about her anymore. Even if the man beside her would argue that point, Caroline knows deep inside her that she’s no longer the same beacon of proverbial light. 

How can she be? After everything she’s witnessed, lived through, _experienced_. There is no way she could have retained that youthful spirit for all eternity, and perhaps that is the root of her uncertainty. 

After all, she of all people knows that old insecurities have a way of rearing their ugly head when you least expect them to. 

And what if the one part of her old personality that still managed to survive the last hundred years is the part of her that fears that she’s still not good enough? What if despite everything that’s happened between them since he found her in Paris, she fears Klaus will be disappointed when he recognizes all the changes within her? Figures out that the light he’s spent over a hundred years being fascinated by and waiting for has likely been extinguished. 

The weight of this revelation nearly crushes her, but it’s only a split second, because some part of it feels detached, like she’s analyzing someone else. Because it seems impossible even in her mind that she would feel anything except complete certainty when it comes to the man lying dutifully beside her.

The same man who rivals her in the amount of growth he has accomplished and the amount of heartache and pain he has overcome since she first met him so many moons ago  
.   
The thought fills her with such affection and longing, she’s momentarily sidetracked and her fingers reach out, intent on making some sort of physical connection with him.

The shrill sound of her cell phone ringing cuts her concentration, and Klaus moves his hand away, glancing over at her for just a moment before reaching for his discarded novel.   
She lies in indecision for a few seconds longer, before ultimately deciding to grab her cell. 

She swipes it from the nightstand and flashes to the window, picking up without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello.” 

“Care…hi.”

The excited and somewhat breathless sound of her oldest friend’s voice has never sounded more pleasant to her ears and guiltily, Caroline smiles to herself. 

“Elena.” She breathes into the phone and the other vampire immediately picks up on the exhaustive quality of her tone. 

She wastes no time in asking what’s wrong and Caroline can’t help but appreciate it.

Their relationship is complicated and tense, always has been and probably always will be. However, Elena is one of the few living souls on the planet that knew Caroline as a human and loved her anyway, and even if Elena may not completely approve of her relationship with Klaus, her oldest friend has always had her best intentions in mind. 

Thus, while Caroline may not be ready to talk to Elena about what’s going on, perhaps what she needs is a little girl talk, a little distraction to clear the cobwebs of confusion from her mind and ground her a bit. 

“Oh nothing, nothing. Tell me about Antigua, it must be so beautiful.” She shifts gears instead.

“Oh Care, it is, it’s incredible here.” 

And once Elena launches into describing her and Damon’s annual honeymoon trip, Caroline’s urge to feel the breeze on her face and fresh air in her lungs takes over and she pushes the balcony door open. 

She hesitates before stepping outside, however, suddenly feeling even more guilty for using Elena’s call as an escape route. She turns around to give Klaus a silent apology, but by the time she summons up the courage to look him in the eye again, all she encounters is an empty bed. 

The breeze wafting into the room ruffles the pages of the old tome laying discarded on the rumpled duvet. 

He is already gone. 

And she doesn’t blame him.

Resting her head for a moment on the balcony door, she takes a steadying breath, puts on a fake smile that no one else can see, and walks onto the terrace, Elena’s cheerful tone doing nothing to quell the ache growing in her heart. 

xxx

When Klaus finally returns, it's nightfall. 

She’s perched on the window alcove, sipping from a blood bag and staring off into the Istanbul skyline. 

One glance at him and she’s pretty sure she knows where he went off to, if the scent of blood and alcohol that suddenly permeates the room is any indication. 

She’s not as opposed to his lifestyle now as she was before, but it still irks her a bit so she doesn’t pay him much attention, tries to temper the pull of attraction she inevitably feels when she sees the wild satiated look in his eye that always follows a feeding frenzy. 

Instead she sucks on her blood bag harder and hones in on one of the buildings in the distance, distracting herself with the twinkling lights that signal the start of a nightlife in the metropolis. 

“I’m going to take a shower.” He cuts through the silence gruffly, and Caroline turns her head just in time to catch a glimpse of his bare back as he tugs his Henley off and disappears into the bathroom. 

She shrugs to no one in particular, suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted. She’s also a little bit homesick, perhaps due to the long conversation she had with Elena. This has thrown her off kilter, because the concept of home has been such an ephemeral thing to her ever since the last time she set foot in Mystic Falls for her mother’s funeral. 

What is home to her?

It’s another question she adds to her pile. For someone who is used to having all the answers, this messy heap of unresolved queries feel like a weight on her back, a cross she didn’t realize she was carrying.   
She rolls her eyes at the biblical reference, so ironic considering her very existence is an abomination. 

The Forbes’ were never particularly religious. Her mother never pushed it on her or made church a priority, but after so many decades of traveling the world - and actually at one point choosing a theology major during one of her college stints - Caroline has begun understanding more and more why people hold onto it. 

Why having faith is so necessary and why, for someone like her, for whom life will stretch on for eternity, having something to believe in is essential. 

And the conversation with Elena has reminded her of that. 

Has reminded her that if there is one thing she’ll always believe in and hold onto, it’s her inner circle, her people, her _family_ and maybe that’s what she needs to cut all this uncertainty and start living her life finally.

Maybe what she needs is to finally go home. 

For the first time all day she feels centered, in control, and has to actively temper her excitement when Klaus walks back into the room, dressed in a pair of jeans and a fresh unbuttoned shirt that hangs on his frame while he rolls up his sleeves. 

The tantalizing scent of his freshly washed skin mixed with a lingering trace of blood sends a shiver down her spine but Caroline ignores it, riding the high of her decision and wanting to share it with him before her resolve disappears.

She finishes her blood bag quickly and swings her legs over the edge, intent on talking to him, but of course he beats her to it. 

“I think it’s time we move on from here.” Klaus announces without looking at her, still focused on dressing himself or at the very least using it as an excuse. 

Caroline frowns at the coldness in his tone but it’s to be expected. She wounded his pride, left him frustrated and helpless, and although Klaus is certainly not the unhinged and volatile person she first met in Mystic Falls, there are still traces of that lurking within him. His instinctive way of dealing with helplessness is still force and violence, which leaves him defenseless and bitter in this situation. 

So she understands. 

Doesn’t mean she has to like it though. 

“I couldn’t agree more.” She concurs, pressing her palms on either side of her, preparing for the confrontation that never comes. 

Klaus stills for a moment, looks up at her with a wariness she isn’t sure what to do with. He’s definitely caught onto the resolve in her voice, and she isn’t surprised. He’s very good at picking up on her tells, even better at detecting any minute changes, sometimes even before she’s aware of them herself but right now it doesn’t amuse her. 

Right now, it makes her a little sad because it feels like they’re on opposing sides, like two strangers who’ve met in some dark alley and are ready to fight to the death, and that is not how she wants to play this.  
Her back curves slightly, shoulders deflating a little as she visibly retreats, letting him know she’s not trying to pick or engage in a fight. 

Klaus immediately senses this and the coldness in his jade eyes tapers off, as does his combative stance. Instead, he finishes rolling up his sleeves and methodically buttons up his dark blue shirt before gazing at her again. 

“Oh yeah, love?” He asks, making his way to the liquor cabinet in the corner of the room and pouring himself a drink from the decanter of scotch. 

“And where would you like to go?” He adds, a smirk playing on his lips as if he’s simply indulging her whimsy. 

She times it perfectly to when he is in mid-sip. 

“Home, Klaus. I’d like to go home.” 

The only sign of his surprise is a slight pause in his drinking, but she blinks and it’s gone, glass drained as he stares at her suspiciously for a moment, as if he’s challenging her to stick to her guns.

Well, this time she is, because when Caroline Forbes makes up her mind, come hell or high water, she will see her decision through. 

“And where is that, sweetheart?” He asks almost tauntingly, and she lets this go too, because she reminds herself of how draining these last two weeks have been on him as well. 

“Where is home?” 

He probes again, this time taking deliberate steps towards her. 

By the time she replies, he’s standing inches away from her, his torso in her direct line of vision but she isn’t intimidated, refuses to be. 

Squaring her shoulders, she looks up at him and gathers every bit of strength she has. 

“New Orleans.” 

This time, Klaus cannot hide his surprise or his genuine delight; his façade cracks just enough for her to see it and a sense of relief and pride rushes through her like a gust of fresh air. She can feel the burden lessen, can feel the tension start to leave her body as she comes clean to him. 

There’s still a heavy silence between them, weighed down by unspoken words and apologies to be made, primarily on her part, but this is a victory, as small as it is. She’s getting there, giving him another brick from her wall. 

And Klaus seems to understand the significance of it. His entire demeanor changes, defenses brought down, expression no longer tainted by suspicion and frustration. 

“Alright, I’ll make arrangements. We can leave in the morning.” He speaks finally and Caroline lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

He turns around to leave, presumably to follow through on his plan, but before he can step away she grabs onto his arm without thinking. 

“Klaus, wait.” 

The voice sounds foreign to her. This is a move she did not anticipate making, and it shows. When he looks back at her, body still half turned away, she’s not sure what to say. 

The heat of his skin bleeds through the material of his shirt and warms her in that tantalizing way that makes her want to seek refuge in his arms. 

But it’s clear that this won’t be happening tonight; his stance suggests that he hasn’t forgiven her yet and perhaps isn’t ready to establish physical contact again for fear of the inevitable rejection. 

And Caroline curses her ability to read him just as well, because this all becomes very apparent to her in a matter of seconds and she knows she shouldn’t say anything else. 

She drops his arm.

“Nothing, nevermind. I’m going to go pack.” 

She gets up with every intent of going to do what she promised, but Klaus stops her this time, a press of his palm against her side and then against her cheek. 

His expression is soft, tender, his way of letting her know that he’s grateful both that she’s not probing him further and that she has just openly admitted to considering New Orleans as her future home. 

And it calms Caroline just enough for a smile to grace her lips, one that Klaus returns, silently but fully. 

She knows she has a lot to make up for but she’s ready to do so, and it seems like the most natural place to fully make amends would be the place that started it all. 

xxx

For this final leg of their trip, Klaus does not ask for her input and makes all the travel arrangements himself. For the most part, Caroline is okay with letting someone else plan her next move for once, but the circumstances of his dominance are what really bothers her. 

He keeps his distance from her, going as far as to spend the night in the sitting area of their hotel suite. When she emerges the following morning, all her frustration with him disappears as she catches him dozing off on the couch; fingers smudged with charcoal, random pieces of thick paper spread around him. 

It takes her back to her last months in Paris, when her entire life revolved around textiles, design materials, and measuring tape; when oftentimes she fell asleep snuggling up to a roll of scratchy fabric. 

She stands in the doorway for a few minutes too long, regret seeping in with every rise and fall of his chest. Even in his sleep, the original looks troubled, brows somehow furrowed, jaw tense, and Caroline knows it’s all her fault. Her inability to give herself away completely is what has damaged their delicate courtship.

She hadn’t realized up until now how fragile their relationship is. Like a fine silk scarf, it had to be handled with care to extract beauty from it. With her blatant disregard for his insecurities, she had driven the equivalent of a sharp knife through the flimsy fabric and now it is up to her to patch it up. 

Intending to wake him, Caroline makes her way into the room, but as if sensing her presence, Klaus opens his eyes and twists his head in her direction. For someone who was in apparently deep slumber just moments before, he looks oddly alert; turquoise eyes sharp and clear as they give her a once over and then glance at the grandfather clock announcing the hour. 

He double checks his own watch before swinging his legs over the side of the couch and getting up. 

“It’s a quarter past nine,” he announces as if she can’t tell time herself, “You have an hour before we have to leave.” 

Then with a brief glance towards her, he disappears into the other bedroom and a moment later she hears the shower turn on. 

Guiltily she looks down to the floor, shaking her head both at his obstinacy and her cowardice. She imagines herself storming into the bathroom mid-shower and demanding that he stop being a petulant child and just _talk_ to her, or at the very least let her explain. However, she imagines that the sight of him naked and dripping water may lead the confrontation into uncharted territory, and she has to do this the right way. 

_They_ have to do this the right way. 

Determined, she retreats to _their_ bedroom and takes her time getting ready. 

As promised, a quarter to ten, she is perched on the edge of the couch, waiting with all her luggage by the door.

Klaus emerges from the other bedroom, and the hint of aftershave mixed with his unique scent sends her wandering mind into a tailspin. It’s in this moment that she realizes this is the longest they’ve gone without physical contact, let alone a kiss. 

In the last two weeks, she’s grown accustomed to his frequent shows of affection; a press of his palm on her back, an arm thrown over her shoulders, fingers just barely tangling in her hair…

The thought fills her with such an intense longing, she has to look away for fear of exposing her vulnerability. The very notion that they’ve grown to be adversaries makes her ill but it also gives her the push she needs to stick to her guns, to make sure that she doesn’t back out when the time is right. 

“Ready to go?” She cuts through the somewhat awkward silence and rises to her full height. She doesn’t miss the way his gaze lingers on her bare legs as she stands. 

“Yes.” He says, still managing to somehow evade direct eye contact, “the car should be downstairs in a few minutes.” 

Then he grabs his solitary duffel and breezes by her without so much as a kiss or a good morning or any part of the typical morning ritual they have engaged in since Paris. 

He does, however, pause by the doorway to grab both of her suitcases before walking out of the suite. The gesture, however minute, makes her smile and she swings her purse confidently over her shoulder before following him out. 

Her confidence begins to wane once they land in Amsterdam to refuel. He barely speaks to her the entire flight and given that they’re the only passengers aboard the Cessna, the silence starts to aggravate her. 

He chooses to disembark the plane to stretch his legs, but doesn’t offer for her to come with him, which gives Caroline the opportunity to think. 

Although her patience has grown over the century, she simply cannot tolerate any more of this silent treatment and she resolves to tell him so when he re-enters the plane minutes later; earlier than she expected.   
“Back so soon?” She asks. 

 

“Yes,” He replies with his back to her, “we’ve refueled, should be on our way shortly.” 

It’s then that she notices the small cooler he brought along and unable to conceal her curiosity, walks up behind him to get a closer look. 

Sensing her, Klaus pauses briefly and then moves aside to provide a better view. What she sees makes her dead heart beat furiously; a million emotions pouring into her and seizing her breath. 

“I noticed you finished the last blood bag yesterday, and I didn’t want you to get antsy and feed on the pilot while we’re in flight.” 

His voice has a playful hint to it but it’s almost as if she doesn’t hear him. Borrowed blood rushes through her veins as she tries to even out her breathing. She’s been on her own so long, she doesn’t know how to accept these kinds of gestures, especially not from Klaus and especially not when he’s so visibly upset with her. 

She didn’t expect this. Truth be told, she hadn’t even thought about feeding, years of tempering her bloodlust have dulled her cravings, but now with this, it feels like all her cravings, all her desires just hit her tenfold. 

Including her rampant need to make things right between them. 

Impulsively, she lands a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently to capture his attention. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, hoping she can convey her gratitude. 

Klaus stands motionless before her, but he doesn’t shrug her touch away and she takes that as an invitation to invade his space. Her heart hammers in her chest and it’s almost silly how nervous she is, as if she hasn’t bridged this proximity between them thousands of times before. 

But it’s different now; more is at stake and when she’s merely a hairsbreadth away from him and he doesn’t dismiss her, Caroline takes the chance and settles her lips against his cheek. 

It’s just a press of skin, nothing more but it sends an electric current through her entire body, neurons firing at an almost unnatural pace as she pulls back to catch his eyes. She knows it’s a long shot for him to reciprocate, but he’s not pushing her away either, so she takes another risk. 

It’s a chaste kiss, nothing more than the fusing of their lips, but it brings to the forefront everything she has been grappling with so far and somehow, even one sided, the embrace turns desperate. Caroline finds herself nipping along his jaw, stubble scratching her lips as she moves along his skin. 

At some point, his hands settle on her hips, and she doesn’t realize he still hasn’t moved until his whisper cuts through the haze around her. 

“Caroline.” 

It’s just her name, but the way he says it is like a dose of vervain and she pulls away as if she’s been burned. 

The trace of guilt in his seawater eyes makes her stomach sink even further. 

“I can’t do this, love.” He admits, palm rising to cup her cheek. The gesture is so bittersweet, Caroline has to shut her eyes to keep any trace of disappointment at bay. 

His grip on her hip tightens as he reacts to her obvious turmoil, but she understands immediately that he’s not going to budge on this. This isn’t going to get resolved with a few kisses and enforced proximity.   
He doesn’t have to tell her as much. She already knows what he needs to hear from her, and there’s no way around it. 

All her previous confidence disappears as she accepts his subtle rejection. Her eyes flutter to the ground in resignation, but just for a moment; that’s how much time she allows herself to wallow before confronting him again. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out unexpectedly, but she does mean it and she won’t take it back. 

There’s a long pause but then Klaus lets out a sigh and runs his thumb across the apple of her cheek once more before stepping back. 

“It’s not your fault, love.” He counters, and the hint of acquiescence in his tone saddens her further, “you’re just not ready.” 

And with that, he turns around, busying himself with arranging the blood bags in the mini fridge before retreating to his seat. 

She stands mutely where he left her, mind reeling, voice inside screaming at him that she is ready, she’s been fucking ready since the moment she laid eyes on him fifteen years ago. 

A part of her regrets not giving in that time; not succumbing to temptation as she so desperately wanted to. A sense of duty kept her bound, however, and this time it seems that her old insecurities are acting as a barrier. 

She thinks about everything she’s been through in her long life; losing Bonnie, losing her mother, losing her sense of home and sense of self. 

She thinks about the people she has met, the relationships she has built that have nothing to do with Mystic Falls, New Orleans, or any battle between good and evil. 

She thinks about the secrets she keeps that no one will ever find out. Like the fact that those twelve witches she sacrificed for Bonnie are no longer the only red in her ledger, supernatural and otherwise. 

But there is one secret she has carried with her through the decades that she knows she must divulge to Klaus, one simple piece of truth that she knows will change everything between them and perhaps solidify his certainty and trust in her. 

The one last weapon in her arsenal that could repair this rift between them and seal all the fractures in their bond.

The last proverbial brick in her wall. 

One she intends to hand over as soon as they’re back home.

xxx 

Once they pull up to the plantation house, she loses Klaus in the flurry of activity. Several of his trusted daywalkers descend on them, unloading luggage and waiting for further instructions from the hybrid. 

She overhears him tell one of the few females among his crew to escort his guest to the south wing of the house, at which point Caroline realizes getting him alone is going to take some effort on her part. 

Or just a lot of patience. 

He casts one glance at her over his shoulder before gesturing for several of the men to follow him, and she immediately decides that the second option will be much more productive.

Pushing him to talk will only result in a potential outburst, so Caroline decides that she’ll wait for him to come to her. After all, how long could he possibly stay away? 

Ignoring all the obvious holes in her logic, she takes a moment to appreciate the sprawling mansion. It looks like it has recently been remodeled. If she concentrates deeply enough, she can detect the lingering scent of fresh paint; the shutters have definitely been painted over and the porch redone. 

She contemplates the colonial design for a bit longer, ideas circulating in her mind about the additions and alterations she could make. When she catches herself thinking of this, the sense of permanence and the implication of her train of thought don’t scare her as much as they should.

Unlike before, the idea of eternity doesn’t carry with it a sense of finality, but rather opportunity; endless opportunity and so much possibility. This isn’t the end of the road and thankfully she realized this before it was too late. 

Before Klaus’ offer expired…if such a thing were at all possible. 

Thinking of the hybrid beckons a sense of urgency, but she tempers it, forcing herself to be patient, committing to a course of action. 

“Miss Forbes?” 

The unfamiliar voice breaks her reverie and she looks over to her left, taking in the daywalker as the other girl stands uncertain by her side. 

By Caroline’s estimation she’s barely two decades old, probably turned after peace settled over New Orleans, or perhaps during the turmoil, she isn’t sure. 

It’s a bad habit of hers, sizing up any new supernatural individual, a product of living on her own for so long, but she supposes in this case it’ll serve her advantage considering she’ll be staying here indefinitely. 

“Caroline.” She corrects the younger vampire, plastering a smile on her face for the girl’s benefit, “you can call me Caroline, what’s your name?” 

“Theresa.” 

“Well, Theresa. Why don’t you give me the grand tour before dropping me off in my quarters, it’s been a little while since I’ve been here and I’m a little rusty on the layout.” 

The girl seems to brighten under the suggestion; any vestige of nerves disappears as she nods enthusiastically and gestures toward the house.

Definitely a young one, Caroline muses to herself as they make their way down the brick path, but she likes the girl’s politeness and enthusiasm and figures there’s a reason why Klaus suggested Theresa help her settle in. 

He knew they’d get along.

This, along with his earlier gesture, makes her heart swell. If someone had told her a century ago that she would have been thinking that she is the one who doesn’t deserve the hybrid’s love and devotion, she would have laughed it off.

But now, nothing else rings truer. 

Even when he’s upset with her, he demonstrates his affection for her. It tears her up inside that they have to play this game, that she has to sit back and wait for him to come to her…that she managed to fuck it up so quickly between them. 

A tinge of fear settles in the pit of her belly. 

What if she’s the one who will screw this up?

What if she’s the one who will make stupid mistakes and push him away and kill any fighting chance they have of making this work? 

Choosing not to think about potential future pitfalls, Caroline redirects her attention to what Theresa is saying as they meander through the house. 

But it’s hard to concentrate on the daywalker now that she’s set foot back into this mansion. This house, which didn’t seem to bear any significance the first time she came to New Orleans at Elijah’s beckoning, now awakens memories bittersweet. 

This is where the seed for their future was planted. 

But it’s also the place where Klaus lost his unborn daughter and his humanity. 

And now it’s going to be her home…the thought is almost a little daunting and Caroline nearly misses Theresa informing her that Rebekah and her guest (whom Caroline knows to be Stefan) are on an overnight trip to Mystic Falls, while Elijah has been spending several days in the bayou making peace negotiations with several reluctant packs of werewolves. 

Werewolves bring her thoughts unexpectedly to Tyler, but only to wonder how he’s doing and where he and Emilia ultimately settled down. She feels a tinge of guilt for not keeping in touch with him and promises to rectify that as soon as possible.

A part of her, a very minute one, still wonders what his reaction to her new living arrangement will be, but a bigger part of her simply hopes her first love could be happy for her, despite any reservations he has about Klaus.

Valid ones, given their history, but Caroline pushes that aside.

It’s no longer her burden to bear and she has plenty enough of her own. 

Instead, she listens to Theresa explain the various changes the Mikaelsons have made to the house and she’s so wrapped up in the details, she nearly misses the direction they’re going in.

Her breath catches as they stop in front of the familiar room, and she turns to Theresa, hand running along the intricate wood carving on the massive door. 

“This is where Klaus told you to take me?” 

Theresa looks uncertain, perhaps misreading Caroline’s surprise for displeasure and the latter smiles briefly to mollify the girl.

“Yes.” She nods, then pauses for a moment before speaking, “he spent the longest on this room.”

Caroline steps aside, allowing Theresa to part the double doors for her and when her eyes take in her surroundings, her smile is involuntary and uncontrollable. 

She closes her eyes for just a moment, the prickling of unexpected tears the impetus, but all she sees in her mind’s eye is this room as it was when she found Klaus here so many moons ago.

The curtains drawn, the beautiful crib gathering dust in the corner, the overstocked liquor cabinet, the staleness in the air…the room carried an air of death, of loss, of sadness with it and even when she was here fifteen years ago, it still felt empty. 

Not so now, Caroline determines as she reopens her eyes. 

The old furniture has been replaced, the curtains have been changed, the window is ajar letting in a warm summer breeze and the walls have been painted over to give the room a more feminine ambiance.

What really catches her attention, however, is the massive four-poster bed situated against the far wall of the room. It’s beautiful; a dark cherry wood that matches the rich and soft pallet of the room. Tears threaten to come back when she recognizes the quilt draped over the side of the bed. 

She walks over, fingering the threadbare material, nostalgia washing over her as she brings it to her face, inhaling the familiar scent. 

It smells of home. 

As it should, since it used to lie draped over her bed in her childhood home, which as far as she knows, still sits unoccupied on a quiet Mystic Falls street. 

She never could bear to sell it or deal with its contents. From time to time, Elena or Stefan checked up on it, but that’s as far as she knows. 

She never returned to Mystic Falls, not even to deposit Eliot Donovan back to his family. Tyler had done that and Caroline immediately feels a sense of regret and responsibility.

Eventually, she vows, she will make her way back there and properly deal with everything, including her mother’s things. 

Thoughts of her mother prompt her to take in the rest of the room and that’s when she starts noticing other familiar things. 

Like her favorite handheld mirror resting on the vanity, the wooden scarf hanger Matt made her in wood shop her sophomore year hanging by the entrance…and the photos, dozens of them scattered around the room.

Photos of her as a child with both her parents, photos of her middle school graduation, flanked by skinny Elena and shy Bonnie, wide smiles on their faces. There’s even a photo of her, Tyler, and Matt taken some time before all hell broke loose. 

Another several of just her and her mother…one of her and Stefan, Elena and Damon. 

She’s so overwhelmed with emotion, her head spins. She hadn’t been expecting this, colliding so suddenly with her past, with all the memories that tug at her heart even decades past. 

But beyond that, the thought and intention behind this move is what finally breaks the dam. 

She doesn’t fight the tears that blur her vision, sinks down on the bed instead, clutching the quilt to her chest as she gives into the emotional onslaught. 

Vaguely, she senses Theresa’s presence but the girl wisely slips away a few minutes later, shutting the door behind her with a resounding click. 

Time slips away from her as she cries, fully immersed in each and every wave of emotion washing over her. The tears eventually stop but the heaviness in her heart doesn’t fade, and neither does the relief. 

The dichotomy is liberating. Allowing herself to feel, both good and bad, without having to question or doubt herself. 

Perhaps that’s what home is really all about…letting yourself go without fear and concern. 

A freedom she has never been able to afford…

One that Klaus has given her without even realizing it probably.

That’s the last thought that crosses her mind before she unwittingly succumbs to sleep.   
xxx

Dusk gives way to night by the time she awakes. 

The breeze wafting through the window is now significantly cooler but the air is still sticky with summer humidity and that, paired with the dried tracks of tears on her face, prompts her to take a shower. 

She rises quietly, listening for any unordinary movements in the house, but it’s absolutely silent. She figures Elijah isn’t back yet and Klaus is probably checking up on the Quarter with his posse in tow. 

The idea of him trusting her enough to leave her alone in his house imbues her with energy, and optimism, and she gets up quickly, disappearing into the en-suite bathroom with one of her duffels. 

She doesn’t rush; takes her time beneath the spray, washing away the grit and grime of travel along with every negative emotion that has plagued her. 

It works, perking up her mood and by the time she’s dried her hair, put on a light coat of makeup, and chosen one of her favorite summer dresses to change into, Caroline feels like a new person. 

She pours herself a drink from the ever present liquor cabinet and is just about ready to start unpacking some of her things, when she feels his presence. 

Applauding herself for picking up on the subtle change in the air, she abandons the camisole she’s holding and drains the rest of her scotch before he even knocks on the door.

“Come in.” She calls out as casually as possible, swallowing back the unexpected nerves that make her nearly blush when he enters the room. 

“Hi.” She blurts out before he even has a chance to look at her, and then berates herself silently for acting like a flustered school girl in his presence.

She is Caroline Forbes for God’s sake…she has brought many a man to his knees…

Of course, this isn’t just any man but that’s beside the point. 

“Good evening.” Klaus replies, then shuts the door and Caroline swallows.

The remnants of scotch burn her throat, but the heat that rushes through her body is not alcohol-induced in the least. Instead, it’s the way he looks at her that sends delicious tingles through her. 

Goosebumps litter her skin despite the summer heat, and she wishes her vampirism could come in handy here and temper her reaction…instead of amplifying every damn sensation. 

“Is everything to your liking?” He asks, bringing her back to the moment. 

Caroline nods immediately and takes a tentative step towards him. 

“Yes, everything…it’s-“ 

But he doesn’t let her speak, cutting her off as he’s been doing lately. 

“I’m glad. I stopped by to let you know dinner will be served shortly. We’ll be dining in the main room.” 

The way he turns around implies that he doesn’t expect the conversation to go further, but Caroline refuses to let him go this time. Her patience has run out and she is prepared for whatever standoff he has planned, so long as she can tell him how she feels first. 

Summoning up courage, she squares her shoulders and calls out to him before he can slip back out. 

“Klaus, wait. I have something to say.” He pauses with his back to her, obviously debating whether to hear her out or not, but she won’t leave that up to him, not this time.

No more avoidance, no more deflection, no more delays. 

She opens her mouth to prepare her argument but as if sensing that this is a battle he will not win, Klaus lets out a sigh and turns around. Taking a step into the room, he leans against the arm of the loveseat and crosses his arms, staring at her expectedly. 

“Alright love, speak if you must.” 

His flippancy doesn’t deter her. She knew he wouldn’t make this simple for her, not when he’s still licking his wounds. 

And she understands this…but it also doesn’t stop the knot from tightening beneath her ribs as she begins to nervously fiddle with her necklace. 

Her gaze flits away to the window, to the place where her eyes first landed on that beautiful crib when she walked into this room nearly a hundred years ago. Her concept of time had been so different then, she hadn’t fully absorbed what eternity meant…perhaps she is only now starting to understand it, and a large part of her growth in this respect, she owes to the man sitting in front of her. 

The very fact that she can acknowledge this is testament to how much she’s changed…how accepting she has become of the unexpected. 

Especially where her feelings for Klaus are concerned. 

“When I found out you turned off your humanity, I was so angry.” 

She keeps her eyes on him as she speaks, determined to be brave, and to ensure that he doesn’t interrupt her. A flash of guilt crosses his face, no doubt bringing him back to their encounter in Berlin, but that’s not her intention so she sets the observation aside. 

“Mostly at myself, because I felt responsible.” 

“Caroline-…” 

 

“Let me finish.” She cuts _him_ off, fingers dropping from her necklace to rest more confidently by her side. The only thing that keeps her calm is the awareness that if her heart skips even one beat, he can hear it and she doesn’t want him to know how utterly nervous she is right this moment, not yet anyway. 

Klaus nods almost imperceptibly at her request, and she can see him softening beneath her very gaze as he witnesses her conviction. 

“I felt responsible because I was a coward. I had been a coward when I came to see you at Elijah’s request. I suspected that if anything could make you turn it off, it would be that specific loss.” 

At the sight of his visible chagrin, Caroline spares them both by merely alluding to his daughter’s untimely death, instead of addressing it explicitly. 

“The point is,” she exhales, just a little bit more courage needed, “I feel like I could have prevented it and I didn’t because I was selfish and stupid and immature and absolutely freaking terrified.” 

With every word, she steps closer to him, until her thighs nearly brush up against his knees. Any sign of anger or frustration disappears from his face, giving way to a look of pure affection that’s difficult to mask.   
It’s the first time he’s looked at her in such an unguarded way since they left Istanbul, and it shatters any reservation she had about taking this final step. Caroline decides right then and there that she will continue to be completely honest with him if he never stops looking at her that way. 

When he reaches up to cradle her cheek, she thinks her knees will buckle at any point and she steadies herself by leaning into his touch, indulging in the way his thumb caresses her skin. 

“You did more than enough coming here upon my brother’s request, sweetheart. There’s nothing else you could have done.” 

But she’s shaking her head even as he tries to reassure her, because he doesn’t know, couldn’t possibly know, hell she hadn’t fully known at that point, only had her suspicions… 

Curls tumble all around them and Klaus drops his hand, resting it on his thigh as he watches her curiously, realizing something else is on her mind. 

“Yes there was. I could have been honest with you, I could have…” She pauses for a second because it’s just absolutely necessary. 

This is a hundred years in the making and she wants to savor the moment, wants to catalogue every single expression on his face as she tells him this, because once she does she will never again be able to replicate it…and she certainly doesn’t anticipate telling this to anyone else. 

“I could have told you that I was falling in love with you.” 

She can feel relief wash over every fiber of her being, but she sets it aside, choosing instead to watching Klaus’ reaction, confusion, shock, regret, and then…genuine disbelief. 

All of a sudden, he looks younger than she’s ever seen him, and in her mind’s eye she gets a flash of him as an adolescent; full of life and with the singular desire to seek his father’s approval. 

For the first time, possibly since she met him, Caroline sees Niklaus Mikaelson at his most vulnerable. 

Not hiding behind grief, anger, frustration or fear.

He’s consciously letting her see exactly the effect she’s having on him and it gives her the confidence to move forward. 

There’s only a brief flash of surprise in his aquamarine gaze as he watches the path of her fingers. She settles on the first button at the front of her dress and unsnaps it as she speaks.

“I should have told you that the night before graduation, instead of thinking about my boyfriend, I was thinking about seeing you.”

Another button. 

His eyes flicker down momentarily, and she can see him fighting hard to keep his gaze trained on her face. 

She can’t help herself, lips curving up into a half smirk as she takes in his reaction. 

“I should have told you that while finding out about Hayley had felt like a betrayal, what hurt even more was knowing that I could never give you that.” 

She pops another button, revealing a hint of pink lace and a whole lot of skin, but Klaus seems preoccupied with her words instead. He looks ready to argue so she places a finger across his lips, warning him that she’s not finished. 

“So I ran away, as far as possible, and when you showed up in Berlin, I did what I had to do, if for nothing else, but to make myself feel better; to feel less guilty about being a coward.” 

He’s silent but his jaw noticeably clenches, and Caroline wonders if it’s at all productive to be taking them both down memory lane. 

Suddenly unsure, she pauses before unsnapping another button. The top half of her dress falls completely down and her skin feels unnaturally sensitive even in the humidity. 

The air between them is charged…sparks ready to ignite and Caroline instinctively knows that there’s only so much of this teasing that Klaus (and really both of them) can take. 

“But none of that matters now, because it’s all over and I’m done running. I’m done making excuses.” 

She says this with a whisper, before pushing the skirt of her dress down, exposing herself physically in a way that she never has before. 

She thought it would be unnerving to be standing in front of the fully clothed hybrid in nothing more than a few strategically placed triangles of lace, but his reception, the way he looks positively enthralled by her courage fills her with a sense of power she hadn’t known was possible.

“I’ve been falling in love with you for nearly a century, Klaus. No one has ever come close, and I never even wondered why because I knew…I always knew. And now I’m telling you this, so you have absolutely no doubt about how I feel for you.” 

She pauses then, wondering if what she wants to say next is too bold but it feels so right, so certain, and the words slip past her lips almost unwittingly. 

“So what’s going to be your move?” 

The question hangs heavy in the space between them and with every passing second of silence, Caroline starts to feel her blood pressure spike. His gaze is torturous, eyes flickering across every inch of her skin as if committing it to memory. 

She becomes acutely aware of the fact that that’s exactly what Klaus is doing. Biding his time now and returning the torturous favor of teasing her as she had done moments before. 

The observation relaxes her instantly, but she doesn’t have time to revel in her triumph. 

Not with the way Klaus unexpectedly hooks a finger into the front of her bra and pulls her flush against him. 

His touch is cold against her skin but not uninviting, merely catching her off guard. 

He pulls her into his warmth, hands immediately circling her bare back and sending a thousand spindles of pleasure down the length of her spine. 

For a moment, they just stare at each other, so close their breath is mingling and she can count the exact number of gold specks in his green iris. Everything from his gaze to his possessive hold on her screams predator and her throat runs dry as he runs his nose along her throat, ending at her ear. 

“No more games, love.” 

And before she can even nod her head to agree, Klaus pulls her into a searing kiss. 

She delves into it with abandon, hands immediately framing his face as his travel upward from her waist and tangle in her hair. Somewhere in the distance, she hears soft feminine moans but doesn’t even realize that they’re actually coming from her until the gentle pull of her hair causes their lips to separate and she lets out an audible sigh. 

Klaus wastes no time, attacking her neck with mind numbing kisses, flicks of his tongue alternating with nips of his teeth across her throat. He pauses at the base of her neck, on the left side, where he once bit her, but before he can fixate on it, Caroline urges him along, her own fingers tracing the constellation of birthmarks on his neck before dipping beneath the collar of his shirt. 

“Don’t stop now.” She mewls softly, pressing her lips to his cheek at the same time. 

Her hands travel down and slip underneath his shirt, intending to rid him of it, but Klaus stops her and her breath catches in her throat when their eyes meet once more. 

The predatory glint is back, but there’s something more beneath it, something far heavier and more telling. He holds her gaze for a moment longer, absolutely still, waiting for her to figure it out and when she does, the anticipation coils and heat gathers and certain parts of her body visibly perk up. 

He’s going to claim her, possess her body and soul and he wants her to be aware, wants her to savor each moment, because there’s no going back after this and if she thought they were going to be equal participants in this, she was oh so wrong. 

It’s quite possible now that she’s never been more turned on in her hundred years on earth and he hasn’t even undressed her fully. The thought makes her lightheaded with desire, barely able to stand on her own and when she grips his shoulders to steady herself, Klaus decides that enough time has been wasted.

(Enough of a warning has been given)

The mattress is soft beneath her, accommodating, and she rises on her elbows to find Klaus watching her intently from the foot of the bed. He’s still fully dressed and doesn’t appear in a hurry to disrobe.   
When he pulls her by her ankle to the near edge of the bed, the sheer eroticism of it all, her practically naked, sprawled out solely for his taking nearly does her in. Desire spurs her on and she doesn’t hesitate running her foot along his arm as he rubs gentle circles on the inside of her ankle. 

He doesn’t say anything, hasn’t said anything in quite some time now, but his eyes tell her everything she needs to know; as hard as he tries to come off intimidating, his expression oscillates between worship and disbelief. 

The fact that he so obviously can’t comprehend that this is happening tugs on her heart in a way that has nothing to do with the growing heat between her thighs and everything to do with the man concentrating so intently on her. 

Never has being the sole focus of Klaus’ attention been more equally terrifying and exhilarating. They’re about to cross the ultimate line, however, so this pause is understandable.

Yet, the urgency building inside her is pulling her in a completely different direction and she’s about to make a move, when Klaus does instead.

Her thighs part for him as he settles between them, the metal of his belt buckle pressing deliciously close to where she needs the friction and she arches her hips upward as he presses his mouth down on hers.   
The growl that passes from his lips to hers sends a shooting jolt to her core and she wraps her legs around him greedily, with the express urge to become one entity with him, despite the many clothing barriers between them. 

Klaus, however, seems to have a different agenda, as is determined a moment later when he slithers down the length of her body, lips mapping a trail down the valley of her breasts and across her abdomen; stopping just short of where she desperately wants his lips right now. 

She would perhaps whine or cajole him into going faster if she thought it would help. But this is a man on a mission. More precisely, it’s Klaus on a mission and Caroline knows all she can do is take the ride with him…and hope to god she doesn’t come undone too soon.

Wouldn’t that be a waste? 

The devilish thought brings an indulgent smile to her face and she nearly misses his teasing voice, so distracted by his breath on her skin and his tongue occasionally tracing the hem of her panties. 

“I would love to know what you’re thinking about, sweetheart, but I’m a little bit preoccupied here, so if you don’t mind…” 

His words taper off and she’s about to ask him what he means when she feels more than hears the tear of fabric. 

“Hey,” She shoots up to her elbows again, a touch indignant with his sudden caveman turn. 

Klaus grins unapologetically at her, predatory glint ever present as he tosses the torn lace somewhere into the room. 

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll take you shopping.” 

And it’s the last thing Caroline can possibly comprehend before the touch of his lips to her skin sends her mind and body reeling. 

He’s gentle with her, so impossibly gentle. His tongue, running along her slick flesh, feels transient, each flick not enough, as if no matter how much she moves her hips and pushes for more, she’ll always be one step behind. 

Frustration mixed with delicious warmth spreading steadily from within leave her in a state of blissed-out torture. She supposes that this was his intention all along; get her so worked up, so keen with desire, that she will beg him for a release. As he presses the flat of his tongue against her clit, hitting just that one spot that makes her upper body jolt off the bed completely, the prospect of begging doesn’t seem too far off.   
Her breathing escalates as he lifts one of her legs over his shoulder, now more intimately pressed against his mouth than before, and her own hands struggle to find purchase somewhere, anywhere. 

One digs into the comforter beneath her, while the other unconsciously migrates to her breast. Color rushes to her cheeks as she thinks about what she must look like right now, but it’s merely a distant thought as Klaus replaces her hand with his, reducing her to a mess of quivering limbs. 

He simply gives her no respite, thumb lazily stroking her nipple while his lips and tongue work her into a frenzy. It feels like every single nerve in her body is absolutely primed, working towards a release that is so long overdue, a sob of frustration escapes her lips. 

Klaus looks up at her in that moment and when their eyes collide, Caroline understands immediately what she wants. 

As much as she’s willing to let him take control, there is one thing she refuses to compromise on, especially in this pivotal moment. She wants him right there with her, wants to wrap her whole body around his, taste herself on his tongue, just lose herself in him completely. 

“C’mere.” She murmurs hoarsely, as he stares at her in wonder. His eyes are wild, unfocused, equally lost in this arousal-filled haze. 

He comes willingly, sliding up the length of her body and leaving a delicious trail of heat in his wake. She feels bereft at the loss of his mouth, as close to the edge as she was, but when she finally rids him of his shirt while he ever so chivalrously undoes her bra and their naked torsos _finally_ collide, it is absolutely fucking worth the wait.

“Christ, Caroline.” 

She intends to tease him a little for his choice of words, but then he unexpectedly buries two fingers inside her and she can barely breathe, let alone berate him for anything. 

Klaus ducks his head, catching a nipple between his lips and for a second, Caroline contemplates giving into his ministrations. The idea of falling apart as he holds her so tightly is so tempting, she nearly does, but somehow her hands find purchase in his shoulders and she foregoes the shiver-inducing press of his body in favor of more intense pleasure. 

“You have got to stop doing that,” she warns somewhat shyly, and Klaus looks up at her, challenging as he slowly twists his fingers inside her and adds another. Her hips buck at the motion and the rough material of his jeans creates a jolt of friction that makes her see stars.

But it also reminds her of what she really wants. 

Him naked, on top of her, inside her, everywhere…and that’s the only thought that manages to keep her off the precipice. 

Sometime in the future, she vows to commission a monument in honor of her self control. 

Even Klaus looks a little impressed with her and she smiles at him softly, before pulling him in for a much overdue kiss. The taste of herself on his lips is only slightly less erotic than the sound he makes when she runs her fingernails down the front of his jeans. 

For a moment, she has the upper hand but it doesn’t last for long as he slides off the bed to remove the rest of his clothing, and her mouth runs absolutely dry as she drinks in the sight of him. 

The tattoos, the lean muscle, the swollen lips, paired with that sinful expression that promises her the world but threatens to drive her into oblivion first…it all becomes too much and she barely recognizes her own voice as she utters the only words that seem so fitting right now. 

“Klaus, please…” 

But she doesn’t have to ask, because in one fell swoop, he does exactly what she’s wanted him to do for far longer than she’s been willing to admit. 

She inhales sharply, losing herself in his scent as he slides inside her without much needed preamble.

And then…

And then she’s absolutely lost…floating, dizzy with lust, love, desire…a million sensations catapulting her into some ethereal abyss.

Klaus’ voice is the only thing that pulls her back to the moment, and all of a sudden, she is confronted with the sheer physicality of it all; his smell, his touch, his weight on her, the way he moves inside her with such a practiced ease while his own muscles grow taut and harden with impending release. 

She, herself, is a tightly wound spring, one spark short of igniting and a part of her starts to panic as her orgasm approaches, because Jesus fucking Christ, this is actually happening…this isn’t just some one-night-stand or extended tryst, both of which have defined the bulk of her sex life throughout the years.

No. 

This is Klaus cradling her body against his. 

This is Klaus splaying kisses along her neck and chest.

And this is definitely _Klaus_ buried deep inside her, managing to hit every inch of her _repeatedly_ as he glides in and out. 

The way he commands her body is as enthralling as it is petrifying and she grabs onto his shoulders, digging her nails deep enough to draw blood, if only to find an anchor, a way to tether herself to this moment and not fade away like her every instinct tells her to. 

But his voice, oh his sweet, deep timbre…

“Just let me in, Caroline.” 

It’s like a salve to her nerves, a soothing balm allowing her to relax. 

When he senses that his words seem to be working, he gives her a somewhat wicked smile and picks up the pace, grasping the back of her thigh and tucking it right under his arm. The angle creates just the right amount of friction, and finally, finally, she has him right where she wants him.

Not a semblance of space between them as he rocks into her with a bit more urgency as he strains to delay his own pleasure. 

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He murmurs almost teasingly, lips tracing the curve of her ear, “just like that.” 

But she hears the breathiness to his tone and once she pries her eyes open again, the vision of his sweat slicked skin, back muscles straining as he fights his feral nature to give her what she so craves and needs…  
That’s what finally breaks her. 

The last thing she comprehends is the way he looks at her…it speaks to every single confession of love, every drawing he ever made for her, every person he has spared, every drop of blood he has given to save her life, and every second of every minute of every hour of every day that he let her live her life…

The tears come unbidden, rolling down her flushed cheeks as she rides out the explosion…and when she finally comes to and finds Klaus on the brink…she kisses him with everything she’s got, arching her hips in such a way that not even the thousand old creature is immune to. 

If possible, watching him come undone is a more sinful and pleasurable experience than anything she’s ever done. He buries his lips in her neck, teeth scraping against her pulse point, and it’s the first time, a distant craving for blood assaults her. 

She holds him to her as he shudders, fingers running through sweat-soaked curls in a soothing rhythm as she thinks about the fact that being with him, right here in this moment…it’s the most satiated she has felt in a very long time, both physically and emotionally. 

She honestly can think of nowhere else she’d rather be right now and for someone who has been running her entire existence…it’s testament to the place this man has in her life…and in her heart. 

For a little while, they lie together in silence, exchanging lazy kisses and lingering touches until Klaus unexpectedly rises and grins somewhat devilishly at her. He looks so relaxed, so unburdened…so happy, Caroline can’t help but smile back, a little of her own playful side showing through. 

“Elijah’s home.” Klaus explains after a minute and heat instantly rushes to her cheeks as she realizes that she was so consumed by him that she didn’t even bother listening for unexpected sounds in the rest of the house. 

Catching on to her train of thought, Klaus chuckles as he leans down and kisses along her sternum for a moment. 

“Don’t worry, love.” He mutters against her skin, “he just arrived and is blissfully unaware of what went on here.” 

Instead of moving down her body, he detours at her breasts, “but if you want a repeat performance…” his voice trails off as he captures a nipple between his lips. 

Her nerves are so primed, her entire body shivers at the action, a moan caught in her throat as she bites her lip in frustration. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

She can feel him harden already and it takes every bit of self control she has not to give in right then and there.

But if there is one thing Caroline Forbes has never been able to let go of, it’s her sense of propriety, and if she plans to be a part of the family her first encounter with Elijah after almost two decades will not be that of him hearing her moan his brother’s name as he takes her into oblivion. 

It just simply won’t do. 

However, knowing Klaus will never willingly let her escape his bed now, she pulls the oldest trick in the book and distracts him the only way a man could properly be distracted by the woman he loves. 

By the time he registers that she has broken their kiss and has no intention of giving his brother an earful, Caroline is already across the room, giggling uncontrollably at Klaus’ confused and aroused expression as she clutches her old quilt to her chest. 

Not to be outdone, Klaus flashes in front of her, effectively pinning her to the wall with both his stare and imposition. 

“Down, boy.” She says teasingly, but upon seeing Klaus’ serious expression, an affront for having been duped by her, she cradles his cheek. 

“If I’m going to be a part of this family, I need to make a decent first impression and while this may suffice for you,” she pauses with a feminine chuckle, “I don’t think your brother would agree.” 

For a long time, Klaus doesn’t say anything, and she knows he likes to do this, keep her on edge.

It doesn’t mean she has to like it, and when she’s just about ready to fix him with a pout, he leans in and kisses her ever so softly. It’s such a departure from his previous ones, but she melts into him regardless, now fully aware that she’s bound to this man, body and soul.

A commitment that brings with it a unique sense of freedom and opportunity. 

“He better not.” Klaus warns somewhat possessively, and while it’s almost comical how territorial he’s being, Caroline bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. 

There’s something acutely playful about the hybrid in this moment, but she doesn’t want to nick his insecurities, knows they both have a long way to go until they find solid footing.

This is merely a start. 

That doesn’t mean, however, that they can’t still have their fun. 

“You know, though, I also probably shouldn’t have dinner with your brother smelling head to toe like you. Care to join me for a shower?” 

She feigns innocence but Klaus plays along, reaching for the quilt and throwing it to the loveseat. His eyes drink her in for only a moment, but it's enough to make her inside tighten with anticipation, arousal growing warm in her belly again. 

“Alright, love, but I should warn you. You must keep somewhat quiet, the shower won’t cover everything up.” 

He says this to her with a self-assured grin and she laughs rather loudly as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I’ll do my best.” She vows.

And as he whisks her away to the bathroom, Caroline thinks she’s never spoken more honest words in her entire existence thus far… 

xxx


	7. December 2115

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They share a secret smirk then, two people who have seen Klaus’ darkest and most unappealing side but have grown to love him anyway. 
> 
> Only a few share in this rarity and Caroline instantly feels empowered – a rush of adrenaline as her heart alights with the possibility that Stefan is right, that words are meaningless on their own – that actions speak louder – volumes even. 
> 
> Hers could fill up a novel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am a terrible, terrible person. This sat unfinished for months – massive case of writer’s block and real life infringement – so naturally I am wincing with fear that I will underwhelm you all but here goes nothing. 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, Cathy, who pushed and prodded just enough and to all of you, wonderful readers, who have followed Caroline on this journey of self-discovery I forced her on. 
> 
> This isn’t the last of me – I am irrevocably tied to this fandom now, so stay tuned for more. Thanks for reading!!

xxx 

_“Commitment is an act, not a word.”  
-Jean-Paul Sartre (French philosopher)_

xxx 

**_December 2115_ **

**New Orleans**

It’s an urge she always gets around the holidays...a pull on her heart that tugs and tugs without fail every December.

In the past, when she was alone, she had to come up with creative ways to alleviate the subtle ache. Some years she volunteered, others she would go to midnight mass. And once or twice, she compelled herself into family gatherings…her shame and guilt always quelled by the overwhelming feeling of belonging, of _family_ , even if for the night. 

But now, now that she isn’t alone, doesn’t have to search for a family, the desire is stronger than ever. 

Everything else falls by the wayside as she stares at the calendar posted on the refrigerator and realizes that the year is almost over and she hadn’t even noticed. 

While that fills her with a sense of joy – the awareness that her life is fuller now than it has ever been – the pull comes back twofold and she speaks before thinking. 

“I think we should have a Christmas party.” 

The second she blurts this out Caroline feels guilty, but it gets momentarily trumped by the temporary ache of arousal as Klaus steps away from where he was nestled between her thighs and fixes her with a suspicious but playful look. 

She’d had him trapped before, one heeled foot against the counter, one on the fridge, with the hybrid comfortably in between. But now he steps away and she drops her legs, staring at him ruefully from her perch atop the kitchen isle, as he looks at her, half aroused and half curious. 

“Is this because I crashed your art class last week?” He asks, head cocked to the side and jade eyes fixed on her apologetically. He doesn’t wait for her to answer as he settles his hands on her bare thighs, thumbs tracing the hem of her pencil skirt, and making her lose her train of thought again.

It’s remarkable, how after nearly two decades together, and ten before that chasing each other, he can still ignite every last of her nerve endings with just a simple touch or a promise-filled gaze. 

Her lip still finds itself between her teeth as she wrestles with her explanation and Klaus’ expression instantly changes as traces of playfulness disappear from his eyes and he furrows his eyebrows in concern. 

His touch becomes less possessive and more soothing as he waits for her to elaborate and this patience of his, which Caroline knows is still a work in progress, makes her heart swell. 

How did she get so lucky? 

A part of her is afraid to admit her reasoning but Klaus definitely deserves the truth, especially since she interrupted something infinitely more pleasurable than party planning. However, she must be careful not to give too much away, because she would much rather let this be an interlude in their evening than a drawn out analysis of her psyche. 

Her hands find themselves slinking up his torso and twining around his neck as she pulls him back against her. Klaus looks at her suspiciously for a second but doesn’t deny her the proximity, falling willingly into the apex of her thighs as her legs settle around him again. 

“I just think that with Stefan and Rebekah coming home in a couple of days, and Elijah on his way back already, it would be nice to have an official reason to get everyone together.” 

She settles her mouth right below his ear, a sensitive spot that elicits a groan from the hybrid, and as if he needs any more convincing, Caroline slides off the isle and to her full height right at the same time as her hands travel to his belt buckle. 

They’re at eye level now and she fixes him with a pout that he can only find adorable on her as she tugs at his belt. 

“And we haven’t all been together in so long…” 

Her voice, tilted slightly for dramatic effect, tapers off and Klaus probably has a lot to say about this, especially since he’s clearly being manipulated into hosting his siblings for the holidays…but Caroline knows that he misses Rebekah and Elijah terribly, has had an extra air of giddiness and playfulness about him for days now in anticipation of their arrival. 

So she’s not surprised when he acquiesces, mumbling something along the lines of her getting anything she wants at the moment and Caroline smiles devilishly to herself as she slides to her knees. 

Thoughts of party planning put on hold for the time being. 

xxx

With the seed planted, however, Caroline isn’t surprised to find herself sitting in the middle of their completely transformed living room a week later, thinking that it looks like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

She’s curled into her favorite upholstered couch in front of the roaring fireplace when a drink is pushed into her hand. Caroline looks up then to find the warm jade eyes of one of her closest friends peering knowingly at her as he takes a seat next to her. 

“And what are you thinking about so intently, Ms. Forbes?” The younger Salvatore brother asks playfully as he takes a sip of his drink and leans against the opposite arm of the couch. 

“Nothing much, Mr. Salvatore.” Caroline quips back with a smile before bringing the lowball glass to her lips as well. 

Stefan watches her take a sip and then bites the side of his lip to keep from laughing as she noticeably grimaces. 

“What is this?” She sniffs the glass, looking at the milky contents for the first time. 

Stefan suppresses a chuckle as he leans forward and whispers, “Rebekah’s attempt at eggnog.” 

“Don’t tell her,” he continues conspiratorially, “but it’s not very good.” 

Caroline actually giggles as Rebekah’s voice travels from the kitchen, “I heard that!” 

“Love ya,” Stefan shouts back almost automatically and gives Caroline a playful wink before finishing the contents of his glass and reaching for the decanter of whiskey perched on the table by the loveseat.

Caroline watches him silently, mulling over whether she should ask what’s on her mind. But the hesitation lasts only a little while. She hadn’t realized up until now how much she has missed Stefan. How integral he had been to her immortal beginnings and how much of her strength and growing confidence she owes to his belief in her. 

She regrets how sparingly they kept in touch throughout the years but is thankful that their friendship has survived a century and secretly, she kind of loves the fact that he and Rebekah have found their way back to each other…if for no other reason than that Caroline now has even more of an excuse to see him. 

He is happy though, there is no denying that, and to Caroline, it is remarkable, that after all the hurt he has experienced (a large portion of it at the hands of her seriously indecisive best friend), Stefan’s heart is still open, and he seems so fearless with it. 

“How do you do that?” She asks almost breathlessly. 

The sheer curiosity in her tone must tip him off, because Stefan pauses uncharacteristically with the decanter still in his hand and gives her a knowing side glance, before returning the crystal vessel to its resting spot. 

He reclines back against the couch and Caroline can see that he’s carefully measuring out his response; brows furrowed just slightly and she recognizes yet again how much she's missed him, his calming presence, his thoughtful advice, and his straightforwardness. 

Always so straightforward, she muses while Stefan contemplates. 

He has never lied to her. Has never tried to avoid telling her the truth and that is invaluable in her mind, almost as important - if not as important - as loyalty in a friendship; which Stefan Salvatore is in no shortage of either. 

The observation pushes her into further musing, which she only snaps out of when Stefan nudges her to capture her attention. 

“Take a walk with me?” He catches her off guard and for a second Caroline is confused, until he nods his head silently toward the kitchen and then realization washes over her. 

Duh. 

Currently, there are two Originals with a heightened sense of hearing lounging in the next room, and though Caroline is a little wary of what Stefan has to say that he would prefer his fiancée and her brother don’t hear, she nods in agreement and follows him through the hall to the back patio. 

The Mikaelson plantation is attached to several acres of farmland that have since been transformed into a very pleasant garden that happens to be Caroline’s pride and joy. It reminds her of the sprawling forests in Mystic Falls, minus the slew of bittersweet memories and heartache.

She doesn’t feel heavy at all, a spring in her step as she leads Stefan onto the property, walking mostly without direction because she knows the path like the back of her hand. 

This is her home now. 

They walk mostly in silence for a while, her choosing not to push Stefan to speak until he is ready, and when they find a stone bench, she follows his lead and settles beside him. 

When he starts to speak, Caroline understands immediately why he wanted to be out of Rebekah and Klaus’ earshot. 

“When I found Rebekah in Cairo, she was the worst I had ever seen her.” 

Caroline fights hard to suppress her guilt as she studies Stefan’s face. It’s physically painful to be reminded of the ordeal Rebekah went through at the hands of those witches – one Caroline was responsible for - but Stefan’s faraway gaze keeps her grounded somewhat. 

This isn’t about her right now, but about him and whatever wisdom he wants to share, so Caroline fixes him with a careful smile when he glances at her from the corner of his eye. 

Somehow though, he still picks up on her discomfort. 

“Don’t worry,” He says with a humorless smile, “she bounced back faster than I’d ever seen anyone do. I was worried at first that she wasn’t dealing, that even an Original wasn’t immune to PTSD or trauma.”

Stefan pauses then, swirling the amber liquid in his glass and uncharacteristically avoiding her glance. She realizes then that it’s highly likely that Stefan has never told anyone about this and she immediately scoots closer to him, arm wrapping instinctively around his shoulder. 

Stefan leans into her – with a familiarity and ease only their type of bond can precipitate. 

“I constantly pushed her to talk about it, worried that she would snap at any minute. I can see now in retrospect how for someone as independent and willful as Rebekah, having me around would have been beyond suffocating but I always justified it by the fact that she never asked me to leave.” 

He says this with an almost self-deprecating tone and Caroline gently interjects. 

“I’m sure that regardless of how overbearing you became, the alternative of loneliness for her was much scarier.” 

Stefan looks up at her then, his green eyes filled with concern, and Caroline quickly reminds herself that she needs to stop bringing her own experiences into this, “besides, what girl in her right mind would say no to eye candy the likes of you?” 

She playfully elbows his side, hoping to infuse the moment with levity, and while it works, it’s only temporary and Stefan smiles briefly before staring ahead again. 

“Well, actually, she did tell me to ‘get the hell out of her sight’ once. We were in Madrid and she made some friends with a few art students in the fashion district. They all decided to go clubbing one night – all girls, so I followed them, couldn’t stop myself, which sounds ridiculous now, but back then –“ 

He pauses then, finishing the remainder of whiskey – looking the most distressed that Caroline has seen him since Rebekah and he arrived in New Orleans five days ago. A part of her is glad her innocent inquiry from before has triggered Stefan’s desire to open up; it seems like he’s been keeping this bottled up inside since it happened. 

She gives him a light encouraging squeeze, which seems to snap him out of his state and he shoots her a quick, grateful smile before continuing. 

“Anyway, I didn’t plan on intervening, just lingering in the background. I wanted her to have fun too – a part of me recognized how irrational and overprotective I was being, but the other part of me – well it didn’t quite get the message, so when a few guys became too handsy for my taste, I stepped in and let’s just say Rebekah was not pleased.” 

Caroline lets out a snicker in spite of herself, unable to disagree, having seen how the blond Original reacts when she’s treated like a damsel in distress without her consent. 

“She was furious with me and for good reason. I overstepped my bounds…at that point we weren’t even-“ Stefan pauses then, a hint of blush rising on his cheeks that spreads warmth through Caroline’s heart. 

A man in love is hard to miss – and she’s looking at one right now. 

“I was curious how that came to be.” Caroline grins at him conspiratorially, as if they’re two old friends dishing on each others’ love lives, which in a way they are, because at the end of the day she wants to know how Stefan can open his heart up so unabashedly, so fearlessly, when there’s an eternity of potential heartbreak stretched out before them. 

It’s something she struggles with every day – an insecurity that she is afraid she may never part with and one that does such a disservice to her relationship with Klaus, to the hybrid himself. 

Because she’s happy…God, she’s so happy that it’s almost disgusting, but that fear lurks just beneath the surface and Caroline is afraid that when she least expects it, it will rear its ugly head and consume her whole, ruining everything she and Klaus have built together.

She can’t let that happen. They’ve come too far. She stiffens beneath the urgency and Stefan must sense it, because he casts a deeper, longer stare at her, before breaking the silence. 

“That night, in a way, was the catalyst for bringing us closer together, but at the moment, it felt like I was about to lose her. She was harsh but fair in her assessment of the situation. Even in her rage, I could tell she was disappointed in me, upset that I had handled her like she was a piece of property to protect, instead of my equal. Even though I had already suspected that it was my inability to move on from what happened to _her_ that was making me behave so irrationally, it wasn’t until that night that I realized I would lose her if I didn’t deal with my own issues.” 

Caroline doesn’t want to draw comparisons but she understands Stefan in a way that only comes from having dealt with it in the same way. It wasn’t a coincidence that their friendship could withstand decades of radio silence. When two people saw life through a similar lens, the bond was solidified. 

It was one of the pillars beneath her relationship with Klaus – and she could see a facet of it in her friendship with Stefan as well, especially with this new revelation. 

In her rumination, Caroline didn’t notice Stefan’s transformation. His face has lost some of its tension and he seems overall more at ease as his mind’s eye gazes back into the past. He has broken the seal of silence, has opened this door into his psyche and Caroline is secretly pleased that her innocent question perpetuated all of this. 

He even chuckles to himself out of nowhere, and Caroline is instantly curious. 

“What?” She pokes him, disregarding how childish her action is.

“Nothing, just thinking about some of the things Rebekah said to me that night; you’d probably appreciate them.” He explains teasingly and Caroline rolls her eyes, though only slightly annoyed. 

“Yes, yes I know. Klaus never fails to point out how similar Rebekah and I are.” 

Her expression must be on the cusp of comedic because Stefan’s face breaks into a smile and he shakes his head. 

“It’s kind of creepy. I mean think about it, having your boyfriend compare you to his sister? Eww.” She almost physically shudders but for some reason her explanation makes Stefan full on laugh. 

“What is so funny, Salvatore?” She nudges him in the ribs, this time a little harder than before – as if it could actually cause him discomfort. He’s got like 150 years on her. 

“I’m sorry,” Stefan raises his hand up in defense, but his laughing does not subside, “it’s just funny that after everything, you refer to Klaus as your boyfriend…my god Klaus as _anyone’s_ boyfriend is a hilarious concept.” 

The onslaught of varying emotions hits her unexpectedly: a twinge of jealousy at the thought that the hybrid would be with anyone else but her, followed by dread at the realization that Stefan has nailed the root of her problem without even realizing. The awareness subdues her a bit but she refuses to let it crumble the lightness she feels completely. 

“Well what else do I call him? My beau, paramour, significant other?” 

None of these terms appeal to her; doesn’t do justice to what she and Klaus share. Although she suspects that it’s all part of her inability to let go of her past completely, she throws the inquiry to Stefan, a childish part of her wanting someone else to voice what she is too afraid to admit. 

“From what I understand, you could call him your husband if you wanted to.” 

A cold shiver skitters down her back as Stefan’s seemingly innocent comment hangs heavy in the air between them. 

She stares straight ahead, a heavy knot forming right beneath her ribs, filling the lightness inside her with dread. Stefan’s gaze lies heavily on her as she struggles to keep her tells under control but she refuses to meet his eyes and he knows, of course he knows. 

“Didn’t know this was a topic you guys broached during your male bonding.” She comments petulantly, like a child. 

Stefan is undeterred – can see right through her defense mechanisms better than anyone. 

“We don’t, but you shouldn’t be surprised that he talks to his sister. I think if anything, you should be glad. It’s helped fix their relationship a lot over the years.” 

“Glad I could be of service then.” Caroline replies dryly, but the remark doesn’t have the usual bite to it. She feels chastened by the revelation, but also as Stefan predicts, extremely glad that Klaus and Rebekah are on better terms, even if it’s at her expense. 

It’s good that Klaus has a confidant, even if it’s in ways she can never be. 

This knowledge deflates her a bit, diffusing her pride somewhat and she turns her head to look at Stefan finally. 

She hates that she’s about to burden him like this but knows that if there’s anyone willing to be invested, it’s him. 

“How can I accept Klaus’ marriage proposal, when I haven’t even said I love you to him since the day I moved into this house?” 

Stefan does a good job maintaining his poker face, but his eyebrows rise almost imperceptibly as the weight of her confession settles between them. Caroline feels instantly guilty for unloading on him like this.  
It’s entirely selfish of her and she’s about to apologize, take it back if necessary, so as not to completely spoil the relaxed state they were in before, when Stefan’s expression dissolves into a rueful smile and he places his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. 

“Words are meaningless on their own, Caroline. You know that.” 

She nods, even though she’s unconvinced, and looks down at the ground; feeling incredibly ashamed, irritated at herself as well for letting her insecurities linger and infect the best parts of her existence. 

Sensing her doubt, Stefan continues. 

“Do you know why I never gave up on searching for Rebekah?”

Caroline instinctively shakes her head, even though she knows this is just a rhetorical question – one that Stefan is about to answer for her. 

“Because I simply saw no other alternative.”

“It wasn’t about being in love with her, at least not at that point. I had only seen her a handful of times since they left Mystic Falls for New Orleans. Being in love with her came later, probably around the time she threatened to dismember me in Madrid if I didn’t stop treating her like a porcelain doll.”

They share a laugh over that – it cannot be helped. 

Rebekah, for all her faults, is a force to be reckoned with and something of a kindred spirit to Caroline, even if it’s a tough thing to admit. 

“I searched for her because I knew that I could never fully live until I knew she was safe, until I knew where she was. It’s that single-minded determination that kept me going, it’s what Elijah and Klaus both saw in me that gave them faith that I would find their sister.”

Immediately, Caroline is transported back to her tiny loft in Paris, a balmy summer evening, Klaus in the middle of her kitchen telling her that Stefan found Rebekah. Even then the hybrid gave off an “I knew it all along” vibe that Caroline found a little fabricated. 

Now, she can’t help but agree with Stefan. 

“It’s also the same drive I saw in Damon whenever Elena was around – even in the beginning.” Stefan pauses then, tugging on her shoulder a bit, urging her to look at him as he speaks. 

“And it’s the same drive I see in you when you’re around Klaus. And if I can see it, well Care, he can see it too, regardless of how stubborn he can be.” 

They share a secret smirk then, two people who have seen Klaus’ darkest and most unappealing side but have grown to love him anyway. Only a few share in this rarity and Caroline instantly feels empowered – a rush of adrenaline as her heart alights with the possibility that Stefan is right, that words are meaningless on their own – that actions speak louder – volumes even. 

Hers could fill up a novel. 

And it seems that fate wants her to hold onto this hope, this renewed sense of rightness, because before the inevitable seed of doubt can foster, their tranquil silence is interrupted. 

“There you two are.” 

They both instantly look up to find Rebekah leaning against one of the Sycamores obstructing the bench from sight. Caroline’s gaze shifts to Stefan’s while his eyes remain on the Original and she can’t help the burst of warmth that blooms in her belly as she watches her friend’s expression immediately alight. 

A part of her thinks Stefan is a fool if he thinks that his feelings for Rebekah didn’t factor into his dogged search for her, but Caroline can’t deny that he is right.

That at the end of the day, if it were Klaus who was missing, even back then, she would not be able to carry on with anything until he was safe – her life would be at a literal and figurative standstill. 

Her mother was right – eternity is one hell of a long time to be alone – and in this case, to be crippled by your insecurities. 

The thought brings her back to the present, just in time to see that Stefan is no longer sitting beside her but rather standing next to Rebekah, arm slung loosely around her shoulder, as if to belie the shared intimacy between them. 

“You coming, Caroline? I fear another minute of your absence and my brother will call in his invisible cavalry.” 

Rebekah’s teasing mention of Klaus fully snaps Caroline out of her reverie and she’s on her feet in a minute, making her way over to the couple.

“No need for that,” She quips back to the other blonde, “you know how difficult it is to clean up after his nonexistent army.” 

Rebekah’s laughter echoes for minutes after. The silent exchange of gratitude between Caroline and Stefan passes unnoticed. 

xxx

There’s nothing in the world that centers her more than hearing her best friend’s voice. Caroline feels instantly soothed when she hears Elena’s sleepy greeting – so familiar, so close, as if they’re not thousands of miles apart. 

“Care? Is everything okay?” 

Through her concern, Elena immediately sounds more alert and Caroline feels guilty – having not realized that it must be really late, or very early in London. Her remorse is somewhat mollified by indistinct grumbling that comes over the line – Damon is apparently not very pleased that Blondie woke him up.

Caroline smirks to herself. 

If someone had told her a century ago that she would ever actually miss the older Salvatore, she would have laughed in their face, but then again, if someone had told her she’d still be alive in 2115… 

Elena’s reprimand to her husband (yes, after eighty years, Elena Gilbert finally became Elena Salvatore – and even Caroline has to admit that it was a very tasteful wedding – she planned it after all) rouses Caroline from her musings. 

“Everything is fine, I just...” She pauses then, not wanting to worry Elena but also not wanting to keep her on the line unnecessarily.

It was such an impulse to slip out here as the evening wound down and phone her friend even though she will see her in a couple of days. Apparently, even a hundred years of wandering on her own can’t break old habits - some decisions inevitably require support from the person who has known you the longest. 

Stefan may understand her the best – but a large part of that is due to their similarities. 

Elena, on the other hand, could not be more different from Caroline and yet she gets her all the same, if not better. Just hearing her voice gives Caroline the strength and confidence she needs to take the final leap. 

Just like that, Caroline makes up her mind. 

“I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and to tell you I can’t wait to see you.” 

She bites the inside of her cheek, holding unnecessary breath as the silence on the other line stretches. Even miles away, she can sense that Elena is unconvinced – knows that there’s a reason why Caroline called and the latter is about to cave, when Elena exhales notably into the phone. 

“Hmm okay, well I can forgive you for waking me up, because I miss you too, like crazy and I can’t wait to see you either.” 

“I’m sorry to have woken you up.”

Caroline audibly exhales and feels a sense of relief – which is precisely why she’s entirely unprepared for Elena’s next comment. 

“Oh and Care?”

“Yeah?” 

“Congratulations.” 

It’s Caroline’s turn to pause as she considers Elena’s (not so) ambiguous felicitations. In a way, this is exactly what Caroline was looking for – a blessing of sorts if she’s honest with herself – which is ludicrous because she’s long since stopped looking to her friends for approval on her happiness. 

But she immediately recognizes that this isn’t about approval at all. 

It’s about letting go of her fears and saying good bye completely to her old life. And who better to give her away than the woman she has admired, loved and on occasion competed against her entire (and very long) life? 

Caroline definitely doesn’t miss Damon’s clear approval of the situation. 

“It’s about damn time, Blondie.” He speaks clearly now, having wrestled the cell phone from his wife’s hands, “now let the good people sleep, you and Elena can gab all about this in less than 72 hours.”

She’s not even pissed when Damon abruptly hangs up on her, though Caroline is certain Elena will have something to say about that. That’s the last thing on her mind, however, as she steps back inside their bedroom and walks quickly to the antique desk sitting in the corner of the room. 

It’s rarely used and if not for her, it would be gathering a thick layer of dust on its oak surface – but Caroline knows it’s all a diversion tactic. 

Even though New Orleans has been peaceful for nearly half a century now, Klaus’ paranoia has never fully dissipated. So he keeps everything of importance in a locked drawer of the unassuming desk that would be the last place arrogant supernatural enemies would look. 

It’s a brilliant plan in its simplicity but tonight, Caroline is interested in something that has nothing to do with any potential war and everything to do with her future with the hybrid. 

She knows Klaus and Elijah have gone for a walk around the property. Having not seen each other in close to a year, the brothers have spent the last couple hours since Elijah’s arrival catching up. 

So Caroline knows she has a few precious minutes to do this without alerting Klaus. 

Picking locks has never been a problem and this one is no exception. There’s only a moment of hesitation as she retrieves the object in question and takes it out of the box. 

It’s beautiful, mesmerizing, and when she slips it on, it fits without resistance, as if it's finally found its true resting place.

On her ring finger. 

Caroline doesn’t expect the tightness in her chest or the dryness in her throat – and she most definitely doesn’t anticipate the prickle of tears blurring her vision as she stares at the ring. 

Her fascination with it takes her breath away, completely blocks everything out and she only notices that she’s no longer alone when Klaus is already inside the room, eyes trained on her with an intensity she hasn’t seen in a while.

It’s not a mask but rather a complete exposure of the vulnerability and fear he’s experiencing in this moment. It occurs to her then that he had pretty much abandoned all hope of this ever coming to fruition, that he had started to accept that she may never give him the type of commitment he wanted. 

And it breaks her heart before fusing it back together – leaving her just as speechless as she had been before. 

But she knows he’s waiting for her to speak, to say something, to let him know it’s not a dream or a cruel joke. 

“Merry Christmas?” She shrugs, biting the inside of her cheek as she’s suddenly reduced to the insecure, seventeen year old who was simultaneously intrigued and disturbed by the thousand old creature when she first met him. 

Caroline doesn’t have much time to contemplate her less than stellar delivery because in an instant, Klaus flashes in front of her, invading her space as he seeks her mouth and kisses her with every bit of force and vigor she anticipated. 

She gives into it, arms wrapping around his neck out of habit, guided by instinct and familiarity. She gets lost in the feel of his lips as they slant over hers, his tongue tracing hers as he holds her to him possessively, as if he’s afraid to let go. 

He pulls away only for a moment, only long enough for them to make eye contact, and Caroline does her best to communicate everything with one glance – words can come later, she decides before making the move this time and fitting seamlessly into his arms, kissing him with all the fervor she can muster. 

It never gets old, which is good… 

Since they have all of eternity.


End file.
